


False Awakening

by kurokun



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokun/pseuds/kurokun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo is about to turn twenty two and experience his yumemiru unmei no hito, or dream of his destined one. He will live for a day in the body of the person he is supposed to spend his life with. But when he finds his fated lover for the first time, will things be as easy as he anticipates or more complicated than ever before? Not every dream has a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovely readers.  
> So I was trolling about the internet the other day and came across a musing on tumblr. It was a dream someone had where you fell asleep on your twenty second birthday and awoke in your soul mate's body, then tried desperately to find each other. I loved the concept and was inspired, which has not been happening at all recently. I immediately set pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, and wrote out a blurb. I really like this story concept, but bear in mind it does belong to some random person on tumblr so I only take credit for the story I create based on it and the characters of Tite Kubo. Below you will find the prologue for my next fic, which I will begin working on full time after the completion of Alley Cat. Hope you like it and will stay tuned. 
> 
> Forever yours, kurokun
> 
> P.S.: Name may be subject to change because I think it is mildly stupid. Also, please leave feedback in the comments below. They make writing so much easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers.  
> So I was trolling about the internet the other day and came across a musing on tumblr. It was a dream someone had where you fell asleep on your twenty second birthday and awoke in your soul mate's body, then tried desperately to find each other. I loved the concept and was inspired, which has not been happening at all recently. I immediately set pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, and wrote out a blurb. I really like this story concept, but bear in mind it does belong to some random person on tumblr so I only take credit for the story I create based on it and the characters of Tite Kubo. Below you will find the prologue for my next fic, which I will begin working on full time after the completion of Alley Cat. Hope you like it and will stay tuned.
> 
> Forever yours, kurokun
> 
> P.S.: Name may be subject to change because I think it is mildly stupid. Also, please leave feedback in the comments below. They make writing so much easier.  
> *****  
> Important notice my friends!  
> So the prologue has been rewritten. Please read the updated version as the added content will play a part in the story as it unfolds.  
> Thanks again my loves.

_11:42PM._

The ticking of the second hand on the clock above him seemed to move faster than normal, almost like it was mimicking Ichigo's nervous agitation. With another swift click, the time changed again.

_11:43PM._

It was July 14, and quickly approaching midnight. Laying in his bed, Ichigo recalled the day of celebrating he had. He had spent rare time with his father and sisters, had a few drinks with his close friends and girlfriend, and received countless well-wishes from the people around him. He had greatly enjoyed his birthday celebration.

Tomorrow, he would turn twenty two.

To his left, he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door. His father walked in, his usual silly demeanor gone. He smiled and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Getting ready for the big day, huh?” Ichigo chewed on his bottom lip, brows furrowed viciously.

“Not like I have any choice,” he grumbled. His father chuckled.

“I remember the day I turned twenty two, and I saw your mother. I told myself I didn't care until I was right there with her that day. It changes things.”

“I guess,” Ichigo said quietly. His father looked down at him and smiled, ruffling the front of his bright hair.

“This day only comes once in your lifetime, so make it count. I'll check in on you throughout the day. Only a few minutes left.” With that Isshin stood and walked over to the door, closing it softly as he left. Ichigo glanced at the clock again.

_11:54PM._

In six minutes, Ichigo was going to have his _yumemiru unmei no hito_. He was going to fall asleep for twenty four hours, starting at midnight, and he would awaken only after living a day in the body and mind of the person he was destined to be with for the rest of his life. It happened to everyone, and was a part of life, but it was also terrifying.

Glancing at his phone he saw a message from Orihime on the front screen. His insides twisted as he considered what was to come between them. Ichigo had known her since primary school and she had been fawning over him since that time. After many rebuffs of her advances, often by playing a simpleton who was unaware of her affections, he had somehow been guilted into dating her by their circle of friends.

That was two years ago. Orihime was younger than him by a few months and as such had not had her own dream of her destined one _._ She talked about it often, however, and she was convinced that he was the person she was destined to spend the rest of her life with.

Ichigo knew this was not the case.

Although he dreaded it, and often tried to believe otherwise, Ichigo knew in the very pit of hit soul – or where it should be, anyway – that Orihime was not his destiny. It made Ichigo itch and feel something similar to what he thought was regret, but when he looked at her he felt nothing. There was no passion, no love, no lust, not even a feeling of companionship when he gazed at her. He had tried to stave off intimacy between them by pontificating about respecting her and wanting it to be “right” - whatever the fuck that meant – but in reality he felt mildly nauseous at the thought.

Ichigo knew that there was something about him – something _inside_ him – that prevented him from loving her like a normal partner. He wished desperately that he was normal, that he could look at her even with a false sense of admiration and care, but he couldn't even bare to fake it. Just pretending was too taxing. Some primal part of him simply rejected her instinctively.

As he suddenly became drowsy, Ichigo thought of who he might see in the dream of his soul mate; if he knew them or if they were thousands of miles away. Renji had experienced his only months before, living for a day in the mind of their best friend's older brother. He was shocked and afraid when he awoke, but only days later he and Kuchiki Byakuya were attached at the hip. Ichigo rubbed his eyes lazily with the back of his hand, opening them one more time and peering at the clock.

_11:59PM._

Suddenly, the world reappeared before him, but entirely in his mind. He stared at the walls of a small, dim apartment that looked worse for wear. The gaze shifted, sliding down to stare at two large, muscled forearms sheathed in a tangled web of tattoos. He heard a sigh before the vision moved, as if he was standing, and walked through the small room to a window overlooking a dark and rough part of Karakura. The lighting in the room was dim, but Ichigo could see a slight reflection against the glass.

_Blue._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my beautiful readers!  
> It has been so long since I've been able to post and I'm sorry to all of your for my absence. I currently have no internet connection at my place (and I assure you, its killing me), so I am bringing chapter one of False Awakening to you from my work office. I'm going to do my best to write and update for you all when I can, though it may be infrequent because I work upwards of 85 hours a week. But I promise I will be here with you to the end. Please enjoy, and leave your thoughts and questions in the comments below for me as they keep me going. You guys are the best.  
> All my love, kurokun.
> 
> PS: I have also updated the prologue, so If you could please read the new version. The details included will be helpful to you in later chapters.

Looking out into the filthy streets below him, Grimmjow glanced briefly at his ghostly reflection in the window, mouth twitching as he held in a smile. He checked the time on his phone before peering into his own crystalline eyes.

_So it's officially the fifteenth._

He didn't feel any different, but he knew that he wasn't alone.

*****

Ichigo watched as the world moved again without his provocation, the vision passing through the main room of the small apartment and through a bedroom into the bathroom. A hand flipped the switch on the wall, garish light flickering overhead. Eyes then moved slowly to a cracked mirror, and Ichigo felt that he may not be breathing.

A man stood there looking into the reflection, or rather almost past it. Ichigo took in the sight with awe. He was almost as tall as the room itself, at least two inches taller than Ichigo himself who was a hair under six foot. He was broad too, cut in a traditional male shape with shoulders significantly wider than his hips. He wore a dark gray t-shirt that was fitted but not tight, although he had much to be proud of. His bones were wrapped in toned muscle covered by smooth skin just a few shades lighter than Ichigo's.

But what stood out the most was the blue. The hair atop his head was bright, but his eyes stood out the most. They were a clear, oceanic color like Ichigo had never seen before. Instead of glimmering on the surface like shallow water they were deep and vast in a way that made them seem never-ending. Like once you were trapped inside you could struggle for air forever and still not breach the surface.

They were terrifying and beautiful all at once.

The face cocked to the side slightly, like he was inspecting his own soul through it, before he grinned just enough for the bright, sharp tips of his canine teeth to show under his lip. Ichigo could swear his own soul shivered just a bit.

But the look was brief and before he knew it the light was flicked off. The man retreated into the dimly lit bedroom and moved to a chair in the corner, obtaining a pair of jeans. Ichigo's mind fried as he considered the man undressing, but he only pulled them on over the mesh shorts he wore. He slipped a dark sweatshirt on over his head, vision going black for a minute, and pulled the hood up over his sky-colored hair. Moving swiftly out of the bedroom, he walked the short distance to the entryway and grabbed a set of keys from a table next to the door. The world went dark again as he exited into the hallway and bounded down what Ichigo assumed was a set of stairs before emerging outside in a very bad part of town.

The blue-haired man started out west, Ichigo noting his direction based on a glance at the half-moon in the sky. He passed by several run-down buildings, some abandoned and others occupied illegally, before turning left into an alleyway near some sort of convenience shop. He rummaged around in his back pocket, pulling open a carton of cigarettes before lighting one up and breathing heavily. Ichigo watched the thin smoke evaporate into the night under a flickering streetlamp.

Both of them waited; Ichigo for what would happen next, and the man for whatever that happened to be. Several minutes passed by quietly before there were footsteps to their left, Ichigo feeling the man tense as he waited for someone to emerge from the dark end of the alley. Soon, a figure showed its face, and to Ichigo's surprise it was a woman. She was fairly small, with blonde hair cropped in a neat bob, wearing casual clothes and a thick coat that was tied tight around her waist. She peered up at the man with only mild interest, no alarm.

Ichigo felt the man shift his hand to his other back pocket and retrieve something that he held out to the girl. It was an old-fashioned memory disk for a computer. The woman took it and slipped it in her coat before holding something out in return: a large wad of bills that the man took from her evenly. The exchange complete, the woman nodded to him once before walking past him and into the street.

Ichigo was thoroughly confused.

He had no idea what he had just seen. People had abandoned floppy discs more than a decade ago, so what use would that woman have for one? It had to be significant, because as the man counted the bills he was handed, Ichigo saw there was close to eight hundred dollars in all.

Before Ichigo could speculate further, the man was on the move again. He took a left out of the alley past the convenience shop and headed swiftly down the street. Ichigo wasn't particularly familiar with this part of town, and it was difficult for him to discern where they were because the man walked with his head bowed. But eventually, Ichigo heard something that he did recognize; the sound of a train station.

 _It's nearly two in the morning,_ Ichigo thought as his confusion started to grow into suspicion. _Where the hell is he headed to this time of night?_

As they boarded the train, Ichigo got his answer: they were headed to the port city of Yokkaichi. Ichigo was dumbfounded. Why on earth would someone go to Yokkaichi at two in the morning? A sudden craving for porcelain?

Though Ichigo was baffled by the behavior he had seen thus far, an unpleasant realization occurred to him: he knew next to nothing about this man, who was supposedly his destiny. In the two and a half hours he had been joined with his mind, he had learned only a handful of things about him. He knew what he looked like to a certain extent, he knew he lived in a horrible part of town, and he knew he was a smoker with odd friends who gave him exorbitant amounts of cash for useless and outdated computer parts.

None of this, however, was particularly effective for ascertaining someones whereabouts.

The man settled into a secluded seat next to a window. As the train lurched forward, he pulled a small device from his jacket pocket. It was a slim, silver PDA, a technology that was mostly lost on a generation of smartphone-users. Powering it up, he typed an extensive password into the main screen so quickly that even Ichigo couldn't follow it while watching. It booted to a main screen where the user selected a messaging application. He selected an address, one _schos.bz,_ before typing in a simple message.

_En route._

He powered off the device without waiting for a reply, clasping his hands in front of him. As the train continued onward to its destination, Ichigo studied the hands in his vision. They were large, with the telltale signs of struggle etched deeply into them. On the left hand was a white, ropy scar extending from the first joint of his thumb up towards the wrist. As the hands changed position again, Ichigo peered at the right. On the webbing between his index finger and thumb was a small tattoo in strong, roman characters.

 _VII-XV._ Or 7-15. Ichigo's date of birth.

His breath caught in his mind.

The tattoo quickly disappeared from view as the man rubbed the skin there with his other hand, almost like it was being hidden. He turned his head to the window, and Ichigo again saw a ghostly visage of his reflection. But this time, he saw no hard stare or cocky smile; in it's place was something more. To an observer he would just look tired, but to Ichigo who resided right behind his eyes, he almost appeared longing, his brows drawn in softly but jaw set firm. He looked into the reflection of his own eyes for a moment, like he was looking past them.

But before Ichigo could look closer or give it further thought, the train jerked to a halt. The hour and a half ride stopped at a station near the center of the coast town. Grimmjow stood quietly and headed out of the door and through the station. Pulling his hood tight over his hair, he headed south towards the ocean. He walked the dark streets quickly, avoiding notice from any of the few passers by. After about ten minutes of walking, he strode into a worse-for-wear shipping yard.

Navigating the metal containers quickly, he walked through a maze of them until he stood in front of a yellow one, the words _KonLine_ printed on the side. To Ichigo's surprise, the man knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal two men in business suits, the younger of the two opening the door and the one of middle age sitting on a folding chair with a newspaper in his lap. Putting down his paper and standing, the middle-aged man walked forward and nodded his head slightly. Ichigo watched as the man took a small yellow envelope, retrieved from his back pocket, and handed it to him. He opened it up and retrieved from it what appeared to be photos and a few pieces of paper from a notebook. He scanned the contents carefully before tucking them away again and securing the envelope, looking up to the man.

“Well done, Koga-san. We'll be in touch.”

_Koga. His name is Koga._

He nodded once before turning around and pulling his hood tighter around his hair. He stalked quietly out of the shipping container and headed back from the way he came. Arriving quickly at the train station, he boarded and settled again into a window seat. In the distance, Ichigo could see the barely recognizable lightening of the black sky, a thin band of navy at the edge of the earth. It would be dawn in a couple hours.

The rest of their commute was quiet and uneventful, and the man – or Koga, as Ichigo now knew him - stuck to the labyrinth of Karakura alleyways to reach his building. To Ichigo's despair, he kept his head down for the duration of the walk, giving him no points of reference to tell him where the building may be. Koga unlocked the scratched door to his feeble apartment and darted inside, locking it quickly behind him and latching several self-installed deadbolts and chain latches. He then retreated back to the bedroom, using no light to make his way through the familiar environment. Ichigo felt him remove the money and PDA from his pockets, setting them on a small, three-legged table. He then moved to the window on his right, opening it and stepping through onto an old fire escape.

Koga pulled out a cigarette and lit it, leaning heavily on the rail in front of him. Together they watched the moon fall and the sky brighten. It was somehow romantic and dismaying at the same time; the light of the sun meant that a large portion of their time together had already elapsed. Just at the rays crested and painted the world in fire, the man withdrew back into the room before stripping his jeans and sweatshirt, the gray t-shirt following it. He then slid onto his bed, one arm over his eyes, letting them close naturally in the quiet.

Ichigo began to feel drowsy as the the man settled in and relaxed. He tried to make sense of the life he had seen be led in real time. His mind swirled with ideas as to what exactly it was that he saw, but the haze of Koga's exhaustion resisted logic and soon he was asleep inside of the other.

*****

_A world fizzled into his view. It was night. He could see the sky clearly, as if from above. Then the vision scanned down and he could see a desert below. Or something he likened to a desert; the plane itself seemed even more barren that, coated in only black and varying shades or gray. The only thing that seemed to have color across the landscape was the moon hanging low in the sky. It was bright and tinged with an orange hue, almost like it was on fire._

_He peered at it for some time before the vision shifted again, and Ichigo was confused to see his bedroom from behind a screen. Whats more, he could see his own form laying out on his bed, chest bare in the warmth of a summer night and legs tangled in the sheets. He saw a hand press to the screen, roman numerals printed in between the thumb and index finger. As a few seconds passed the vision changed and the bed lay empty except for a single color that splayed across the sheets and drifted to the floor: red._

_It was an inhuman red, unnaturally bright in the darkness. The hand on the screen pulled away quickly and the owner turned his palm to face him, seeing it and the other smeared with the same ungodly crimson. The hands started to tremble as they tried to wipe the sin away, but the red ran stubbornly down the wrists and dripped off the fingers. The panic grew more intense, movements frantic and breathing coming fast and -_

*****

The world spun as Koga opened his eyes and sat up straight in bed, yelling out in a dry, cracked voice. He inspected the bed and his hands, gasping for air. He swayed as the adrenalin of the dream started to die off, wiping his brow and palm coming away wet. He looked around the room, tinted dimly with the light of dusk outside. He rubbed his face once more before standing and snatching a lighter and cigarette pack from the three-legged table and retreating again the fire escape. He stood there for several hours, peering out at the distant and crumbling world in the streets below as city grew darker. As the moon reached it's peak in the sky, he ran his thumb along the letters etched into his skin, head falling down like it was too heavy to hold. His world started to grow fuzzy, but just as everything went black and time was up he uttered the only word that his partner would hear him say in their day together, passing from his lips in a quiet whisper.

_“Ichigo.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello gorgeous people.  
> I'm really sorry for not posting recently, but good news: although I wasn't posting I have in fact been writing! So I'm going to grace you with a couple of chappies all at once. I'm really starting to fall in love with this fic and things just keep getting better. I've been super inspired so I'm doing my best to crank things out as fast as possible. Without further ado, I hereby present to you the next part of this saga. Please please please leave me some comments and let me know what you think and if I'm living up to your expectations.  
> Much love, kurokun

_ Ichigo. _

He bolted upright in bed, a sharp intake of breath making his head swim. As the surge of adrenalin quickly faded, he felt his body protest at the sudden movement after a full day of being asleep. Even so, he felt exhausted; his limbs groaned as he lifted them to his knees and his mind was cloudy like he had been days without rest. It was then that he finally processed his surroundings. As he peered around his room he realized he had company in the form of his father, sisters, and closest friend.

And Orihime.

He felt his body tense as she looked to him and smiled brightly. 

"Hello Kurosaki-kun," she bubbled like sickly sweet sugar syrup in a hot pan.

"Welcome back," Karin said with a nod, looking him over quickly before settling her eyes out the window. Ichigo looked to Renji, expecting a snarky quip from his best friend, but instead the tall redhead just sat quietly, staring at him with his brow furrowed.

"What's up," Ichigo cracked lamely from his parched throat, managing a feeble smile. His father was about to address him when Orihime stepped forward.

"Kurosaki-kun," she said a bit more forced, "what did you see? Could you hear my thoughts? I was so happy to know you were with me." She prattled out the sentences quickly, Ichigo feeling himself go cold as he looked around the room. Renji gave him an uncharacteristic scowl, but his family looked at him in anticipation. 

"It was...you," Ichigo said evenly, feeling himself give in to the lie much too easily. "We'll talk about it later." With that, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and straightened up, stretching his arms high enough for his midsection to peek out from under his shirt. After he loosened his muscles he looked at his father, trying to distract from what it was he really saw. 

"Did I miss anything while I was gone?"

"Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo turned and saw Orihime looking frantic, hands clasped so tight the blood couldn't flow through them correctly. 

"Why can't we talk about it now? This is the biggest part of our lives and relationship. I want to hear what you heard and saw and felt -"

"Beer."

Ichigo turned from the small, raging, orange-haired girl to his tall redheaded friend, who now stood behind him with a fierce expression.

"Excuse me, Abarai-san?" Orihime stared at him like she might combust. But he held firm, grabbing a pair of jeans and a peacoat from the end of Ichigo's bed and handing it to him. 

"Beer. He needs a drink. We're gonna go get one. See ya."

With that Renji dragged Ichigo out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the girl's calls as he went. He pulled on the coat before he got outside, and once the two hit the pavement they both set off at a run down the street towards downtown. By the time they reached the nearby district fondly called the  _ kyūtei  _ by Karakura locals, they were panting. Ichigo took a moment to breathe and pull the jeans he held over his basketball shorts before the two ducked into a bar called  _ Shuon _ . 

They each claimed a barstool and ordered a cheap draft from the bartender. The two sat quietly, Ichigo glancing at Renji every so often knowing that his long time companion had something to say. A few moments after they had been served, he finally spoke up.

“So what is it you saw?”

Ichigo nearly choked on the gulp of beer he had just drank and his friend thumped on his back as he proceeded into a coughing fit. After he regained his breath, Renji have him a pitying grin.

“That bad, huh?”

“God don’t even start me on it,” Ichigo groaned, holding his head in his hands as he propped up his elbows on the bar. His friend just sighed, fingers rubbing delicately at the new tattoos near his hairline. He took another drink.

“Well, spit it out already. And not the beer, Ichi.”

“How do you know I’m not pissed because it’s Orihime I saw,” Ichigo grumbled as he poked one eye out from under his crossed arms, training it on his friend with an impressive glare. Renji simply laughed and looked at him, turning away after a moment with a small shake of his head.

“How long have I known you? Have you ever been able to hide shit from me? I mean seriously.”

Ichigo loosed another pathetic groan, muffled by his forearms as his shoulders slumped in defeat. Renji was right; he was an absolutely miserable liar.

“You know you can tell me,” the redhead said a bit softer this time, focusing on the backlit spirits on the bar’s back wall. 

“Yeah,” Ichigo said with a sigh, “I know.” He straightened up and finished his beer in a few large drinks before requesting another. Once it arrived, he spoke.

“It was a man,” he said almost gruffly, feeling his face heat a little from the alcohol and much more from the statement. He saw Renji raise an eyebrow in his peripheral vision, but he stayed quiet.

“The whole time I was there,” Ichigo continued, “the entire day, I only saw him once. He’s tall - maybe even a bit taller than you - and he’s pretty tough looking. But his hair and his eyes are both blue. Like, not even human blue. It’s weird. I didn’t learn almost anything about him except he does some weird shady deals at night and sleeps during the day. And I only heard his name once. It’s Koga.”

“Koga,” Renji said, mostly like a statement but curled at the ends like a question. “And that’s all you got?”

“Yeah. I saw his face but I didn’t see enough to tell where he lives. It’s a really fucking bad part of town though; I’m not about to go knocking on doors in the hood. So, just Koga.”

“Hm,” Renji grunted, face scowling fiercely as he thought. Finally, he straightened up and looked at Ichigo with a hint of recognition.

“I remember Ginrei-sama talking about different noble families in the history of Japan when I was younger. The kanji for Koga is most often interpreted as meaning ‘old river’, and it could sometimes be read as Kogawa, too. The history surrounding that particular family is mostly unknown; they were a pretty mysterious group of people and other families often condemned them, saying they practiced odd magics and all kinds of witchcraft to appeal to the gods of their land. They were kind of like Robin Hood’s though; a lot of text surrounding them speculates that they gave very large amounts of money to the sick and weak to help them get by. They eventually died out or were absorbed by another clan, the Takeda’s I think, but the majority of their ancestors stayed near the village that was their namesake, which is now Chiba.”

“That was a whole lot of crazy bullshit,” Ichigo said, staring at his friend in disbelief. “How do you even remember that?” Renji simply shrugged, looking apathetic.

“It wasn’t optional; I had to remember it. Ginrei-sama took his time to teach me, anyway, even though I was just some nobody friend of Rukia’s who liked history. Least I could do was pay attention.”

“Loser,” Ichigo mumbled, groaning louder when his friend gave him a strong punch in the arm in return.

“Why the fuck is it you told me all that useless shit anyway,” Ichigo said, scowling back at Renji who shook his head again.

“Why else, asshole? If you don’t know enough about him, maybe you might be able to find someone who knows him in Chiba. It’s not a common name, and most of them are located there, so he might have grown up in the area.”

“Damn,” Ichigo said, eyes wide as he processed the idea, “for such a huge red-headed buffoon you actually have a good idea here and there.”

Ichigo smiled this time as another hit bruised his upper arm, glancing at his friend before finishing his beer and standing to leave.

“Hey,” Renji called to him as he strode to the door, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to your place. I’m going to need to kill a few hours before the next train leaves. Believe it or not I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Thanks for volunteering my apartment for hotel duty. Dick,” he said crassly all while grinning at his friend brightly.

“Like you’d have me in anyone elses bed,” Ichigo winked with fake seduction. The two pulled on their coats and strolled outside towards the redhead’s apartment building, Ichigo booking a ticket for the Tokaido/Sanyo 288 towards Tokyo that departed at 6:41AM.

_ See you in the morning, Chiba. _

*****

It was 8:30AM, and Ichigo grabbed his duffel bag with a sigh as he boarded the Yokosuka line. He was about an hour away from his destination, and he had a hotel booked for his arrival. Stowing his bag under the seat, he settled in with his headphones over his ears and tried to get as comfortable as possible. After returning to Renji's last night for another couple drinks and some much needed sleep, he had woken up and headed home to pack a bag. His sisters were still sleeping 5:40am, but his father was awake at the table, running his gray eyes over a quarterly spreadsheet provided by his financial hub for the clinic. He looked a bit older with his reading glasses on, the slender silver frames accenting the salt and pepper hair at his temples. When he saw Ichigo emerge from the entryway he turned up one eyebrow and tilted his head, too tired to attack him in greeting as usual. 

"A much less dramatic entrance today than your exit last night," he said with a sleepy smile as he took a drink of coffee.

"Yeah," Ichigo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "sorry about that. Renji just knew that I needed a moment."

"I'm guessing you didn't see Orihime," he said wisely as he removed his glasses. Ichigo stayed quiet and still, looking down to the floor.

"The only thing I'll say is you shouldn't have lied to her," the older man continued.

"I know," Ichigo mumbled.

"So do you know her?"

"No. I don't know...him."

"Him? Didn't see that one coming," his father said with one eyebrow raised. "You going to meet him?"

"I couldn't tell where he lives from what I saw. It's in Karakura but that's all I know," Ichigo replied as he pulled a thermos from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. "But I heard his name. It's Koga. Renji said that surname is from the Chiba prefecture."

"You're going to find someone who knows him," he said without having to ask. Ichigo smiled.

"I'm going to go pack. See you in a couple days, yeah?" 

An hour later he was seated on the 288 bound for Tokyo, and he was pleased when it reached the station just before it was due. He used the twenty minutes in between trains to get breakfast at a cafe and use its wireless internet connection to search the Chiba Family Registry. 

No, it was not public. But he was very good with computers.

He pulled up the indexed documents and did a search for any entries with the surname Koga, but was dismayed to find that almost all of the matching documents were decades old. He sighed and downloaded all of the files anyway so he had something to do on the second half of his journey. Now sitting on the train he reopened his laptop and started browsing through the files, taking note of any document with promise. Forty five minutes later and he had narrowed the three hundred and eighty some pages into a list of twenty six of the most relevant that he would start with before bothering with the older or more abstract ones. He'd be starting with a Takeda Hinami; her grandmother had been a Koga before marrying into the Takeda family. 

Ichigo felt the train finally start to break and he looked out into the Chiba station. He lifted his bag and stepped out, approaching a map to look for the station nearest to the address. After a quick ride on a commuter line and short walk, he stood in front of a modern apartment building. He felt his insides twist a bit as he rang the bell to apartment 117.

_ "Yes?" _

"Uh hello, is this Takeda Hinami?"

_ "Who is asking, please,"  _ came the tentative reply.

"My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. I'm looking for someone I think you may know. I know it's a bit odd, but I don't have much to go on and I promise not to take up too much of your time." There was a stretch of silence and for a minute Ichigo thought it was the end of the line, but suddenly the door to the building swung open from the inside, revealing a young woman in bright running shorts and a T-shirt.

"Huh," the dark haired girl mused, hazel eyes widening a not as she appraised him. "You're cuter than I figured."

Ichigo stood still, brows furrowed a bit in confusion. The young woman gave him another up down before looking at him with one slender brow arched and placing a hand on her hip.

"So, I'm Hinami. You gonna stand there all day or do ya wanna come in?"

Ichigo finally snapped out of his daze and nodded, stepping inside and following the girl into her apartment. It was clean but lived in, simply and tastefully furnished with some prints on the walls and a few black and white nature photos. The girl - Hinami - gestured to a chair in the living room and Ichigo sat, feeling a bit awkward.

"So Ichigo," she said evenly, "who is it you're looking for? Must be pretty important if you're asking strangers for help."

"Well, I actually just turned twenty two..." he said trailing off, unsure of how to begin.

"So you're looking for your destined one," she asked with more interest giving him a bit of a grin. "How romantic. Well, why do you think I can help?"

"Its kind of a long story but I did some research...some less than ethical research and I found out your grandmother's maiden name was Koga. Is that true?"

"Yes...if I remember correctly. How could you know something like that?"

"That's the less than ethical part," Ichigo said sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't pry further. "But basically the only thing I know about the person in my dream was that his last name is Koga. There aren't many of the family left, and most of them have stayed here in Chiba. I think he may be from here."

"Huh," she mused, tapping a finger on her bottom lip. "I guess that's true. Grandma always told me she loved grandpa but had been sad to lose her last name. So what does this guy look like?"

"Well I only saw him for a moment, but he's tall and has blue hair and eyes. The hair looked natural which isn't too common. Does that ring any bells?" The girl sat in thought, but finally frowned and shook her head.

"Sorry Ichigo, but I don't know anyone who looks like that. And no one in our family I know of has blue hair." Ichigo felt himself deflate a bit, though he knew his chances were slim at the start. He smiled at her and stood, getting ready to say his goodbyes before she stopped him.

"But, I do have an idea for you. If you think he grew up in Chiba, you should go to the Central Library. They have yearbooks for all the public schools on the prefecture going back to, like, the seventies. I'm assuming he's close to your age, so maybe if you can get his first name and school you can find someone who knows where he ran off to university or whatever." Ichigo considered the simple idea and was surprised he hadn't thought of it himself. 

"That's a great idea. Thanks so much for your help, Takeda-san."

"Ah it's nothin'," she said with a giggle before pulling him in for an awkward, one-sided hug. "And just call me Hinami. If I can help with anything else, you know where to find me." Ichigo responded with a small bow of thanks after the exchange then was on the street again, twittering his fingers over his phone screen as he looked up the address to the Chiba Central Library.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Fucking hell. _

Ichigo flopped back onto his bed in the hotel, draping one arm over his eyes in frustration. He had spent the rest of daylight in the library, flipping through yearbooks looking for Koga. Nearly six hours, four cups of coffee, and a handful of paper cuts later he had found not a single trace of him. The monotony and fruitlessness of his search has eventually angered him so bad that he had slammed his fist on the desk in front of him, drawing concerned looks from other patrons. After the outburst he had left, head hung in defeat as he walked.

Now calm enough to think, he felt even more upset about his failure as he realized something; Koga had either eluded every class photo of his life, or he wasn't from Chiba. Ichigo had scoured books from every public school in the area, looking through classes from 2001 to those from the current year, and he wasn't in any of them. Koga had looked to be a similar age to him in his dream or a bit older, so there should be no way he missed his year. Ichigo groaned again and rolled over, despair settling over him like a cloud.

He let his mind drift back to his vision of Koga, recalling the vivid images of his dreams that they shared. Ichigo was confused by them; what he had seen was clearly himself and his bedroom from the roof outside the window. He had considered that maybe his own thoughts and presence had corrupted Koga's own dream but he had never heard of that happening before. And though it was faint and distant, he could swear he heard Koga say his name.

_ If he already knows who I am, why hasn't he came to find me? _

Ichigo ignored the disturbing thoughts before getting up and changing into a T-shirt and sweats and opening up the door to the veranda off the room. He sat down outside with his computer in his lap and pulled up his browser, staring at the screen with uncertainty. He pulled up a news site, browsing through to try and forget his melancholy, when he came across a story in the business section. He followed the link and scanned the full article. A company called Asahi Industries had recently began testing for a new type of computer software. There had been several investors in its production, both inside the company and from third parties. The company had seen a significant downturn in revenue since the third financial quarter of 2004, and the project was supposed to serve as a revival of the company once available for release.

But the story itself revolved around the fact that as of two days ago, the program had apparently been corrupted so badly that the development had been suspended and project deemed a failure. Asahi was crumbling in a downward spiral and reports indicated they wouldn't last through summer of the coming year. They had declined comment several times.

The last paragraph, however, was a comment from the VP of Acquisitions at Asahi's largest competitor, called Tiego Productions. She stated that she "was sorry to hear of their struggle" and that the industry was "simply a game of chance", indirectly saying that they had lost. Ichigo had an odd itching feeling as he thought of Teigo Prod.

_ Where have I heard that name before? _

He searched the company name and looked up the name of the quoted woman and quickly lost his breath.

She was a short, petite woman, with a stylish blonde bob. Dressed smartly I'm a well tailored suit, she looked a bit smug and disinterested in her photo.

_ Kaizō Lirin. _

_ The woman who met Koga in the alley. _

Ichigo grabbed his unpacked bag and checked out, searching for the first train from Chiba to Teigo Productions headquarters in Tokyo.

*****

"Yes, hello. My name is Kurosaki Ichigo, I'm a reporter for the Regional Tribune. I was hoping to speak with Kaizō Lirin-san about her thoughts on the Asahi project failure."

_ "I apologize Kurosaki-san, but Kaizō-san has already addressed the matter publicly and is declining further comment. Would you like to leave me your in-" _

Ichigo hung the hotel phone back on its receiver, running a hand over his face. He had came to Tokyo the instant he recognized the female executive without second thought. It had never occurred to him he would have to find a way to contact her. He sat back in the small desk chair, eyes closed as her thought.

_ Well, what now? _

After a few more minutes of thinking and moping, he stood up and changed into a pair of sleek jeans and a button down. Pulling his peacoat over top, he grabbed his messenger bag and computer and left the hotel on foot. After a twenty minute walk he was standing in front of a large apartment building. The penthouse suite had been rented to one Kaizō Lirin, according to a local real estate blog. Ichigo stood to the side of the building and waited. Of one thing he was sure: the doorman was familiar with all of the tenants and would certainly not let him breeze right past. 

Just as he was starting to fidget, an older, well dressed woman abled by with her arms full of bags printed with designer labels. Her eyes were focused on the building ahead, but she was clearly struggling with her purchases.

_ I may have some luck after all. _

“ Excuse me, ma’am? Could I give you a hand with those?” Ichigo smiled his brightest, most innocent smile and said a little prayer to whoever may be listening. The small woman turned, looking surprised to see him, before returning his smile to Ichigo’s relief.

“Oh, would you be a dear and do so? My residence is close, but these parcels are heavier than I expected.”

Ichigo smiled again and took some of the bags, letting the elderly woman prattle on as they moved towards the building. She chattered all the way up to the doors and was unaware that as the large, well built doorman opened the entrance for them, he wasn’t even breathing. He looked to the woman as she spoke, never making eye contact, but in his peripheral vision he saw the man give him a small frown and let his eyes linger. But Ichigo just laughed at something the elderly woman had said and breezed past, pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary. He didn’t take another breath until the two were on the elevator. 

They got off on the fifth floor and Ichigo played the good samaritan as the woman thanked him again for his help. He then returned to the elevator, waving as the doors shut and then inspecting his options. As he looked at the panel, he noticed that the first floor didn’t contain any apartments; instead it housed the lobby and a small cafe in the back. He clicked the corresponding button and waited for the doors. As they opened, Ichigo tried to look underwhelmed on the outside instead of show the awe he actually felt.

_ Do people really live like this, _ he mused as he strode across the marble floors to a small table with large, leather chairs, finally able to take in the grandeur of the building. He set his bag down before approaching the barista and ordering a black coffee with a red eye. He cringed internally as he payed, the $7.95 a little too painful for caffeinated plant juice, but returned to his seat and awaited the drink. He had a decent view of the entrance. It was now 7:22PM. 

He sat quietly and drank his coffee slowly, waiting and watching the doors as inconspicuously as possible. He thought he was going to explode when finally, at 8:49PM, the outer door was held open for a petite figure in an expensive looking suit, blonde hair pinned away from her face. Ichigo stood as evenly as possible and pulled his bag over one shoulder, walking towards the elevator. As she pressed the up arrow, the woman eyed him with displeasure. Ichigo just gave his attempt at a kind smile.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I’m visiting my grandmother on the fifth floor. Can I take the car with you?”

“Certainly,” she said while sounding entirely too uncertain, but nonetheless when the doors slid open Ichigo followed her inside. He hit the key for level five and she for the penthouse, placing a gold key into a slot next to it and turning it. The doors came to a close after what felt like an eternity, and he exhaled.

_ This is it. _

“Kaizō Lirin.”

The woman looked at him, eyes narrowing as she gave him a once over, but didn’t speak.

“I know that you were behind the Asahi Industries project failure.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” she quipped in a low voice, sounding a bit more intimidating that Ichigo expected her to be.

“You heard me, Kaizō-san,” he said evenly, trying to remain calm. “Somehow you sabotaged their program. That doesn’t mean anything to me. I can assure you I have no reason to tell anyone...unless you give me one.”

By then they had reached the fifth floor and the doors slid open again. Lirin hesitated for only a moment before pressing the button the the penthouse again and waiting. 

“We will discuss this in private,” she growled at him as the doors opened again into a spacious foyer. She removed the key from the elevator and strode inside, dropping her bag next to a closet. Ichigo followed her silently into a living room, where she gestured for him to sit. Once he settled into a large armchair, she sat across from him on the large white sectional, crossing her legs before eyeing him.

“So what is it you want, mister…?”

“Hoshimura,” Ichigo responded quietly, giving his mother’s maiden name instead of his own.

“Hoshimura-san,” she said again, face scrunched like she had smelled something terrible.

“All I want is your help,” Ichigo said tiredly, letting more of his emotion seep into the words. Lirin furrowed her brow a bit, lips pursed slightly with her frown.

“I’m confused, Hoshimura-san. You’re blackmailing me for help with what, exactly? Do you need money? To make something - someone - go away? What?”

“No, nothing like that,” Ichigo stuttered quickly. “I need help finding someone.”

“Finding someone,” she scoffed. Shaking her head, she stood abruptly and turned around, walking over to a small bar behind the sofas. She bent over gracefully and opened the cabinet at the front, pulling out a large crystal bottle full of amber liquid.

“You don’t mind if I drink, do you Hoshimura-san,” she called over her shoulder. “Well, this is my flat after all. Suppose I’ll do whatever I please.” She pulled a glass of ice from a separate shelf and poured the scotch over top before returning to the sofa and removing her heels, tucking her now free legs under herself.

“To be honest you aren’t very good at this whole extortion thing, dear,” she said with an amused tone as she sipped the drink. Ichigo frowned.

“I don’t follow.”

“Well, Hoshimura-san, you’ve caught me red-handed in what could be one of the largest scandals in my industry. But instead of asking for money or favors or status or what have you, you request my help in finding someone,” she chuckled lightly. “Your naivety is almost rather cute.”

“I wouldn’t call it naivety,” Ichigo said tentatively. “I just don’t see the purpose in asking for anything that isn’t important to me.” Lirin cocked her head to the side and watched him close enough for Ichigo to grow uncomfortable. Finally she set her glass down and looked at him with gentler eyes.

“That's...very noble of you. Perhaps a bit stupid, but noble. So who is it you need me to find?”

“Its a man. You met him in an alley in Karakura two days ago. He has blue hair and eyes and he gave you a floppy disk which I suspect has something to do with the whole Asahi thing.” The woman didn’t speak for a second, eyes tracing the refracted light in the crystal glass in her hand.

“You mean Koga,” she finally said quietly.

“Yes, Koga. Can you tell me how to contact him, or where he lives, or something? Anything,” Ichigo said feverishly, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. 

“I’m afraid I can’t,” she said, looking away uncomfortably.

“But why not,” Ichigo yelled, “please I just want to talk to him -”

“No honey, I mean I really can’t. I don’t know any more about him than you do.”

“What?”

“I may not be as important of an asset to the company as people may think,” Lirin said with a sigh. “If you did your research you’ll see that within the top sixteen players at Teigo Prod there is only one woman. And that’s me. I put in the work to get there, sure, but I’m a lot more of a public figure and positive statistic than anything else. That night, I was sent by the COO, Kashito, to meet that man. From what he told me he doesn't know anything about him either, only that he was contracted to help us from someone way out of our reach. All I know is that he provided us with what we needed to destroy Asahi. I’m sorry.”

Ichigo felt his hope crumble yet again and looked down to the floor in defeat. He gave himself a few moments breathing to try and wrangle in his emotions before standing and bowing slightly to Lirin. She stood as well and walked with him to the elevator. As the car opened and he entered, the woman placed her hand inside the door. She handed him a business card with a mobile number scrawled on the back, then looked up at him with an almost kind expression.

“Who is he to you that you want to find him so bad?”

“Apparently he’s my destiny.”

The elevator ride down to the lobby was only seconds long, but felt like an eternity of loneliness.


	5. Chapter 5

"No, Okiyama-san, I never received the report. If there is some sort of program failure it needs to be reported to me immediately otherwise I can't troubleshoot. I'll see what I can do...yes, bye."

Ichigo pulled himself up from his bed and went to his desktop computer, booting it up and loading the faulty program sent to him from his boss. He opened the command line and ran a check of all the basic functions, finally identifying a broken loop that was causing it to crash. He quickly rewrote the line and backed up the new version before sending it to his employer. Work from home was convenient only in the sense that he didn't have to interact with people face to face or wear pants; but a pain in the ass because he was always hours behind any computer issue the company may have. He sighed.

It had been a week and a half since his twenty-second birthday and the days seemed to blend together into one big agonizing stretch as time crawled by. He found himself thinking constantly of Koga, each time he looked at...well, most anything. Whether it be the sky, a lit cigarette, a set of roman numerals, or even just water sitting stagnant in a glass his mind would wander to the man he was supposed to be with above all others but just couldn't find. It was all consuming and dark and scary, but most of all of was lonely.

Ichigo had never been one to feel lonely before. Just the opposite; he more often than not felt alienated the more people he was surrounded by. In the past, solace had brought him nothing but peace and ease. Now it was just a quieter place to brood. 

A buzzing sound pulled him from his distracted thoughts, grabbing his phone of the does and seeing a message from Renji.

_ Hey, festival tonight. You game? Orihime keeps pestering me about you. _

Ichigo sighed and stared at the message for awhile. Orihime. He had kind of forgotten about her. But Renji was right; unlike his feelings during the rest of the relationship he couldn't continue to push this away. He typed a response quickly.

_ I'm game. Pit stop at her apartment first? _

Ichigo went over to his closet and rummaged around, finally settling on a pair of faded jeans and a black v-neck T-shirt. Grabbing a jacket as backup if the night air got cold, he pulled on his Vans and ran downstairs, waving goodbye to his sisters as he went. 

The walk to Orihime's apartment was uneventful and short. Much too short. Ichigo felt his stomach churning and he played the possible outcomes of the conversation through his mind. Now that he stood in front of her door he felt unprepared, but somehow ready to get it over with.

_ No time like the present. _

He knocked on the door firmly and was surprised when it opened quickly, the redheaded girl standing there with a huge smile on her face.

"Kurosaki-kun! I saw you walking to the door," she babbled shrilly. "You must finally be ready to talk about what you saw of me that day!"

Ichigo felt nauseous.

With no verbal response of his own she ushered him inside and sat him in the living room. She started to sit next to him, curling into to his side like a housecat, but he put his hands firmly but gently on her shoulders and kept her arms length away.

"Kurosaki-kun," she said with a frown, "what's wrong? You haven't been acting like yourself. I know it can be scary and commitment isn't easy but you and I..."

As she droned on, Ichigo found his brain overloaded with her sentiments, thoughts racing chaotically back and forth free of his control. He couldn't take anymore of her stupid talk about love and being together and how certain she was they were destined to be together when they so obviously weren't. He couldn't handle any of it.

"It wasn't you."

Suddenly the room was quiet, Orihime staring at him in disbelief like he was somehow mistaken.

"What do you mean, Kurosaki-kun?"

"I mean it wasn't you, Inoue. I didn't see you in my dream. I'm sorry but you and I aren't meant to be together." She was still and quiet, staring at him steadily without a word. Ichigo tentatively reached a hand out and placed it on her shoulder, expecting her to pull away but feeling her shake slightly.

“But how can that be,” she whispered slowly before looking up at him. “I love you, Ichigo. I love you.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated as she looked away again, the room growing deafeningly silent for what seemed like forever. Finally she looked at him, meeting his eyes as tears fell from hers. Then she stood slowly and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. He stood and went to the door, knocking on it softly.

“Orihime,” he called, unsure of what to do. He heard her crying behind the door. It felt good to be free of the lie, but it felt...bad to hear her cry. He knew it was wrong to just leave and called out to her a few more times, but she wouldn’t answer. Time would be the only thing to help whatever she felt; he could do nothing to ease the pain now.

When Ichigo shut the front door behind him and turned around, Renji stood on the sidewalk, a large silver flask in his outstretched hand. 

“ The fuck is that,” Ichigo growled.

“ I may have gotten started on the sake before we hit up the festival,” he shrugged, stepping forward and pushing into his friend’s hands. Ichigo gave him a bitter laugh.

“ Never a better time for a drink. Guess I’m glad you’re basically an alcoholic.”

Renji just smiled as they fell in step with each other and walked towards the festival, the final days of the celebration of Tanabata in full swing. As they strolled nearer they could smell takoyaki and crepes along with the cordite smell from sparklers that children ran around with. They chatted as they moved between booths, finally moving up to the mostly deserted shrine. Passing the flask back and forth until a warmth bloomed in their stomachs, the two sat on the stone steps quietly.

“So,” Renji said with a sigh, breaking the comfortable silence, “how did it go?”

“How the fuck do you think? I told her. She cried. I left. It was terrible,” Ichigo groaned in return. 

“Does it feel better though? To not have to pretend?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

They're were quiet again and a few young girls passed by, blushing and smiling as they looked at the two of them. Renji gave them a wink, which sent them squealing away.

“More to the point, what about Koga? How are you going to find him,” Renji asked in a gentle tone, knowing how sensitive the subject was.

“I don’t know,” Ichigo said quietly, looking at a blue reflection on the lake beside them and seeing eyes the same color in his mind. Karakura was a small town but it was still close enough to Nagoya for the population to be large and diverse. “Kaizō-san told me that the person who sent her to talk to him doesn’t know anything about him either. Just that he’s good at what he does and is almost impossible to track down.”

“Sounds like just your type,” Renji said with a smile. Ichigo laughed a bit and took another drink.

“Have you considered that maybe he has a record? Maybe Byakuya could-”

“No,” Ichigo said with a shake of his head. “I don’t want to get him involved. Plus that’s not exactly a good way to meet someone, you know?”

“I guess,” the redhead sighed, the two growing quiet again. They finished off the flask together before standing and walking back into the heart of things. Some of the booths were closing as the night started to drag on, and the crowd had started to thin out as parents gathered together their younger children and head home. 

“Might be time for us to head out too,” Renji said from his side, head tilting towards the shrine’s exit. Ichigo nodded in ascent and they set out aimlessly, both not looking to head home but unsure of where to go next. They were walking downtown when Ren’s phone twittered in his pocket, interrupting their banter. He checked the screen quickly before looking up.

“Bya got out of work early,” he said, face matching his hair as he ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I should head home.”

“Get out of here you fucking lovebird,” Ichigo laughed, punching his friend in the shoulder. Renji smiled apologetically before turning and jogging in the direction of the Kuchiki estate. Ichigo watched him go, happy that his friend had a partner waiting for him. The two were absolutely mad for each other - in their own, sometimes odd way - and it always made Ichigo feel better to know his hapless and once lost friend would be cared for even when he wasn’t around. 

But tonight, it also made him the slightest bit jealous, though it hurt to admit it. 

He shook the thought from his mind and walked through the streets. As he had walked with Ren, they had wandered into the more alternative district of downtown that bordered the rougher parts of the city. The scene was still bustling with night owls moving in and out of the various clubs and bars around him. He saw some of them holding hands, others displaying their affection a bit more openly. It may have been just for that night or for an eternity, Ichigo wasn’t sure, but at least until dawn those couples would be happy. They would feel like half of a completed whole. 

They wouldn’t have to face the dreadful and searing pain of another passing night alone.

Ichigo averted his eyes, chastising himself for his thoughts. He felt like some silly and lovesick teenage girl, but he couldn’t help it. It was like the huge hole that had always had a home in the very pit of his soul was burning, and he finally knew how to fill it but just couldn’t. Because he still couldn’t find him, couldn’t manage to track down the man with hair like the sky and eyes like the sea. And the burden of that, the burden of the loneliness and the void, it was becoming almost too much to take.

He kept walking, drifting in and out of the throngs, not paying much attention to where he was going until he noticed he was close to the neighboring slums. As he realized where he was, he finally decided to call it a night and was about to turn around when something made him stop. He had seen... _something_. What it was, he wasn’t sure, but when it moved like a shadow on water in his vision his heart had beat faster. He turned towards the alley ahead where the movement came from and walked towards it mindlessly.

He crested the mouth of the alley and looked in, only to see the movement again; but this time he saw that the lithe shadow was the figure of a person. It was tall enough to be decidedly male, Ichigo seeing that it stood at least three inches over himself as it went deeper into the maw. He followed again, ignoring all of the warning signs and the voice screaming in his head that this was a fantastically terrible idea, getting louder as he turned again around the next corner and -

Stopped. 

The man stood at the end of the alley, head bent forward slightly as he lit a cigarette. He had on a dark sweatshirt with the hood up and a pair of soccer sweats that slimmed his bottom half. Ichigo was unsure if he knew he was being followed, and was considering turning and leaving quietly, but then the stranger lifted one large hand up and swept the dark hood from the top of his head, leaning back and releasing a stream of smoke from his lips.  
_ Blue. _

“Koga!”

The man froze for a few seconds before turning and peering behind him, meeting Ichigo’s gaze with his own oceanic one. He straightened quickly, eyes widening for a moment before narrowing to slits and he turned his whole body to face Ichigo. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head back as he appraised Ichigo, face molded into a scowl, before crossing the distance between them and looking down into his eyes. 

Ichigo’s heart beat wildly in his chest as he tried to swallow down his disbelief. He had found him - somehow he had stumbled upon him in the middle of Karakura late at night without even having to look. Tonight was the last time he would have to go home alone. The last time he would lay awake wondering if there was someone like him, someone who he could say everything to without hesitation, someone to love him as he was. Tonight was the last time he would have to be alone and-

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but get outta my way. And my name isn’t Koga.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people of AO3.  
> So I was looking at FA a day ago and I realized something incredibly embarrassing:  
> I am missing a chapter.  
> There is a huge unexplained gap between the current chapter five and six because this is the real chapter six. I am so sorry, people.  
> Like, so sorry.  
> Hope you read this new update and it helps.  
> Much love, kurokun

Ichigo was barely able to process the words as they hit him, the man looking down at him with a sneer. He stood slack jawed and shocked, knees almost starting to shake.  
Doesn’t know me?  
Ichigo didn’t know what to think. How could the man who he was destined to spend the rest of his life with not know who he was? What did that mean? Ichigo was sure this was Koga. He was positive from the very moment that he had seen him turn the first corner into this alley. He had known it was him. So why was he standing there staring at him like that, watching him like some pitiful bug in the way of his boots?  
Before Ichigo could reel in his thoughts, Koga stepped around him fluidly and started to make his way out of the alley. Without thinking, Ichigo reached out his hand and grabbed the larger man’s arm.  
“Wait-”  
Before he could speak, Koga grabbed the hand that held his bicep, dropping his cigarette in the process, and flung Ichigo around his body and against the brick wall before him. Ichigo felt the air leave his lungs before he heard the sound of something slicing through the air and landing against the skin of his throat, pressing hard enough to draw a single drop of blood. Koga leaned into him, lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed his sharp, white teeth.   
“I don’t know who you think I am,” he growled menacingly into Ichigo’s ear, “but I’m not him. I suggest you don’t come around here again.”   
With that he pulled away and darted out of the alley, leaving Ichigo slumped against the wall behind him. He didn’t remember sinking to his knees, and he would deny the tears to anyone who asked. He only remembered a single thought running through his mind over and over.  
He doesn’t know me.  
*****  
“So you want to explain to me what happened?”  
Ichigo sat on a hospital bed in the clinic portion of the Kurosaki home, face turned away from his father who dabbed an alcohol pad against the shallow cut on his throat. He wrapped his right arm around his body without thinking, something had done when upset since his childhood. Isshin finished cleaning the cut before laying a strip of gauze over it and then finishing it off with a bandage. He pulled away from his son, looking at his profile with concern.  
“Ichigo,” he spoke again, “please talk to me son.”  
As if pulled from a trance, Ichigo turned his head towards his father, blinking several times as he met the older man’s eyes. He lingered for a moment before looking back to the ground.  
“He doesn’t know me,” Ichigo said barely at a whisper, feeling his chest tighten again as the words running through his head were finally said aloud.  
“Who doesn’t know you?”  
“I found Koga,” Ichigo said, a little louder but still distantly. “Me and Renji were walking around town after the festival and when Renji left I was walking down the street by myself. I was just about to come home when I saw someone walk into an alley. I don’t know why but I followed and it was...him. From my dream.”  
“So you did find him,” Isshin said with a smile. “That’s wonderful, Ichi.”  
“But when I found him and called his name, he looked at me and told me he doesn’t know who I am. And he said his name isn’t Koga. I tried to stop him and talk to him and...thats when I got this,” Ichigo said with a gesture to his neck. Isshin’s eyes widened, but he didn’t speak at first. Instead he sat down in the chair across from the bed, resting his chin in his hands as he thought.   
“Well,” he said finally, “are you sure that you’re not older than he is? If he hasn't had is yumemiru unmei no hito yet, then he wouldn’t know who you are.”  
“He’s older than me. I can tell by looking at him. He’s probably twenty four, maybe older.”  
Isshin frowned and returned his head to his hands, staring at a point in front of him. Ichigo was watching his father quietly when he noticed him lift his head, eyes widening slightly as he grew a bit pale.   
“What is it,” Ichigo asked leaning forward. Isshin’s head spun around to look at him, lingering on him for a second before he shook his head fiercely, turning away.  
“No, it’s nothing-”  
“Dad,” he snapped in a firmer tone, “what is it?”  
Isshin just looked away, features going more grave as his eyes darted back and forth in thought. Finally he stood and placed his large hands on his son’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes with concern and almost...sadness.  
“Ichigo,” he started softly, “have you ever heard of something called a false awakening?” Ichigo shook his head harshly, unable to find the strength to vocalize the words. His stomach was rapidly rising up his throat, leaving a softball sized lump there that he could hardly breathe over.  
“A false awakening is a phenomenon of the dream of the destined one. It’s uncommon, and only a handful of cases have been reported to the medical community and studied so not much is known about it. Some medical professionals think it has to do with brain injury, others think it might be environmental, and some even go as far as to say-”  
“Dad,” he yelled with a broken voice, “what does it mean?”  
“It means,” Isshin said with hesitation, “that the person you see in the dream is not your destiny. You awake into the mind of a stranger who you have no relation to. The only way I have heard of these people finding the right person is if their true partner dreams of them and finds them instead. Sometimes, it just...doesn’t happen right, son. I’m sorry.”  
Ichigo felt dread blossom deep in his bones as he processed the information. So that meant that Koga was just...a stranger? He wasn’t his soulmate? But then why when he was near could Ichigo feel electricity in his veins? And what of the roman numerals of his date of birth, or how he could swear he heard Koga whisper his name right at the end of the dream? It seemed impossible for all of that to be a lie, just some accident or coincidence that he had landed himself in with a man he had no relation to.   
But fate had never particularly smiled on Kurosaki Ichigo.  
Without a word, Ichigo slid off the exam table and walked through the side office to their home, traveling up the stairs and sliding into his bed. He was asleep soon after.  
*****  
Ichigo awoke deep in the night with a strange feeling. He opened his eyes, blinking them in the darkness of the room as he tried to adjust. The night air had grown cold, and he lifted a sweatshirt from beside his bed and pulled it on before leaving the warmth of his sheets as he sat up and looked out the window. He breathed in the cool air of the summer nighttime, smelling leaves and a lingering scent of something like fireworks. But it wasn’t fireworks...it was different.   
Cigarettes?  
Ichigo had taken the screen out of his window some time ago, so he slipped quickly through the opening onto the roof. Breathing in again, it was more clear. Ichigo smelled tobacco smoke. He looked down past the roof and scanned the street below, looking for someone loitering around his home. He was about to give in and chalk it up to teens rowdy after the festival when he saw a shadow move from behind a tree and disappear between two houses across the street from his.  
He saw the figure move and he felt...electricity.   
He moved without thinking, sliding down the roof to the tree whose branches lingered beside it. Scurrying down quickly, he ran towards the movement, darting in between the houses. He saw the figure moving faster now as it hit the street on the other side, and he willed his legs move faster to catch up. He broke out on to the street, heart pumping wildly with adrenaline-  
But the figure was gone.  
Ichigo scanned the area but saw no trace of him, or anyone.  
I'm going insane.  
Defeated, he finally wandered back to his home, feeling his feet ache slightly as he just realized they were bare. Finally reaching his yard he scaled the tree again and sat on the roof. He leaned back on his arms, mind drifting away from what he saw.  
A false awakening...  
Ichigo climbed back into the window and sat down in front of his desktop, booting it up and pulling up the internet. He searched the term before scrolling through the matches with dismay. There was very little information surrounding the phenomenon, only a handful of sparse articles that wrote of the tragic fate of someone who suffered the faux dream.   
The only record of an actual account of it was in a medical journal dated several years prior. A professor at an American university detailed the case of a student who had came to him saying he had dreamed of an older, middle aged woman. He had tracked her down a few cities away only to find that she was married to the man who she had seen in her dream and vice versa. The doctor had attempted to go through a handful of neurological tests with the youth but he had refused and disappeared from the college a few weeks later. The rest of the article was just speculation about possible causes with no real medical foundation.  
Ichigo frowned at the screen, unsure of what to do next. He returned to bed and sat next to the window, wrapping his arm around his midsection.  
It was starting to dawn.  
*****  
"So he just told you to fuck off and that was it? Really?"  
"In a few more words, but that was the general idea."  
Ichigo sat at his desk with his nose buried in lines of code, trying to write a program requested of him by email that morning. Behind him Renji was sprawled out on his bed, fingers twittering across the screen of his phone. It was his day off so he had of course come over to pester Ichigo as he tried to complete his project.   
"So what's next?"  
"I don't know," Ichigo sighed, abandoning work to turn around to his friend. He had sat up through the wee hours of the morning asking himself that very question and hadn't found any plausible answer.  
"Well," Renji said, cocking an eyebrow up and looking away from his phone, "you could always ask for help."  
"How could someone help with this," Ichigo responded with a tired eye roll.  
"I told you, Byakuya could do a search for him."  
"Ren I don't even have his name," Ichigo groaned with exasperation, "he told me his name wasn't Koga."  
"Then he'll just use his description." Renji propped himself up on his elbows to look at his friend with concern. “You don’t always have to do shit alone, you know.”   
Ichigo scowled at his friend. He had always been a very independant person, at least after the death of his mother. His greatest fear in life was to be a burden on those around him. That fear had lead him to avoid asking for anything, even when it was from someone like Ren. He sighed.  
“He’s going to look at me weird.”  
Renji smiled.  
*****  
“Tell me what you know of this man, Kurosaki-san.”  
Ichigo fidgeted in his seat under Lieutenant Kuchiki Byakuya’s cold gaze. They sat in the open floor of the Nagoya precinct, occupied only by themselves and two third shift officers doing paperwork. It was both a blessing and a curse that it was such a ghost town; the peace and quiet was soothing, but being alone with Byakuya was unnerving to say the least.   
“The only name I had for him was Koga, and I don’t think that’s correct. I really don’t know much in the way of personal information about him.”  
“And what of his appearance? Build, hair color, eye color, the like.”  
“He’s tall,” Ichigo said, voice growing slightly distant as he recalled the man’s features. “Probably about your height, definitely over six foot. He has blue hair, blue eyes, and a muscular build. I’d say he’s anywhere from twenty-three to twenty-seven years old. That’s about all I got.”  
“That will be plenty,” Byakuya responded with a solemn nod, grey eyes looking him over once before returning to the screen and following the cursor as he typed. He entered information into the fields before beginning the search, turning back to the younger man as he did so.  
“It often takes time for one of these searches to complete. It may be best if you-”  
A sharp beep from the computer silenced him, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly at the screen.  
“Did it pull something,” Ichigo asked nervously, leaning forward in his seat.  
“Yes; the features of this particular individual are more sui generis than I expected.” With that, Byakuya turned the screen of the computer towards Ichigo, showing a screen full of young men with blue hair or eyes. Ichigo leaned in further, eyes scanning through the rows quickly.   
“There are approximately two hundred eighty four matches to the entries. I will scroll through them; if you see the individual alert me at once.” Ichigo nodded his ascent as he finished off the page, Byakuya moving down the entries to the next full set. Ichigo scanned through those as well, shaking his head slightly as he reached the end with no success. This chain continued for several pages and Ichigo was beginning to lose hope when finally the older man scrolled down and Ichigo’s eyes stopped immediately on the third row from the bottom  
“There,” he said a bit louder than he meant to, eyes wide as he stared at the image. the picture itself was odd; although Ichigo knew it was the man he knew as Koga, his eyes were closed, hiding the oceans within. He also seemed somewhat...paler than Ichigo remembered him, even as he had seen him under the harsh, bleaching light of the moon. Byakuya turned the screen back to himself before pulling up the file, his eyes widening and brow furrowing ever so slightly.  
“Kurosaki-san.” he said lowly, voice mixed with something besides its usual coolness, “are you certain this is the individual that you were looking for?”  
“Yes, that’s him. I know it’s him.”   
Byakuya scowled in response before looking back to Ichigo for a moment, then turning the screen to face him again.  
“I’m...sorry, Ichigo,” he said lowly.   
Ichigo let his eyes wander across the screen, his stomach falling instantly as he read.   
Date of Intake: November 21, 2012  
Case Number: N-14565523  
Name: Doe, John  
Alias: Unknown  
DOB: Unknown  
Age: Unknown  
Race: Unknown  
Residence: Unknown  
Citizenship: Unknown  
Known Associates: Unknown

Status: Deceased  
Causes: DOA - Unknown  
“I truly am sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear friends.  
> I'm sorry it's been so long since I updated, but life has been a steady stream of busy for the last five months. However, in honor of Ichigo's birthday, I decided I needed to pay homage in the form of fanfiction. Thus, I present to you two chapters of False Awakening. Hope you enjoy and please please please leave me a comment below.  
> Until we meet again.

    Ichigo laid in bed, curled up underneath the comforting embrace of his duvet. He saw his phone screen flash again and considered finally paying heed to the myriad of messages, but his arms felt much better wrapped around himself and he thought that without their support he may feel the crushing loss again, and he-

    Well, he simply couldn’t handle that.

    Instead he settled on rolling over to face the window, watching as the sun fell below the line of the world signaling the descent of another day. It had been several of them since he left the police station and wandered home like a shell of himself, and since then the world had seemed increasingly far away and irrelevant, even from the sight of the window. Nothing seemed particularly important anymore.

    After all, his destiny was quite literally dead.

    Or dead in the eyes of the prefecture of Nagoya, at least. Ichigo had tried to think of or even invent a plausible excuse for his run in with the man he saw in his dream, but he couldn’t imagine even in his wildest strings of thought how it could have been unreal. The human brain certainly did have a way of making the things one believes in seem to come true, but their interaction had been somatic and left him with (unpleasant) proof of their altercation.

    Ichigo was drawn out of his thoughts by a set of footsteps galloping up the stairs before a fist banged on his door.

    “Ichigo I’m coming in,” he heard his idiot of a best friend yell from the other side. The door opened with a ridiculously dramatic flourish and in stepped the redhead, hair let loose for once and held back from his face by only a bandana instead of being bound tightly at the top of his head. He wore the single nicest pair of jeans he owned, something Ichigo knew after having seen the extent of his wardrobe, and a tight, maroon long sleeved shirt with a chestnut leather jacket over it. To put it simply, he was decked out. Ichigo frowned.

    “Why are you in my room and why are you dressed like that?”

    “Because we’re going the fuck out,” Renji yelled as he went straight for Ichigo’s closet, starting to rifle through shamelessly.

    “You might be going out, but we are not. So get out of my shit.”

    “Did it sound like I was asking to you? We’re going to Shuon; it’s Saturday night and they have half priced, like, everything.”

    “Ren,” he finally said in a tired tone, “I’m being serious. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

    “If you don’t go do something you’re going to become a part of your mattress. Look,” he said as he turned from the closet momentarily, “I know what happened. I can’t imagine what you feel but I ain’t just gonna let you lay in your room and brood. The only thing I know how to do right is party like a drunken slob so that’s what I’m gonna do. And you’re coming along.”

    Ichigo sighed at his friend's words and, against his better judgement, smiled. He wanted to be furious, he truly did, but he knew that Renji was trying desperately to comfort him in the only way he had ever known how: getting messed up. Ichigo sat up and stretched, the air of his room feeling like a winter wind against his bare, flushed skin. Renji held a ridiculous amount of garments up in front of him before finally settling on a pair of tight, acid washed jeans and a dark gray long sleeved v-neck that hugged him closer than he liked. Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

"You've gotta be shitting me. That stuff is crazy tight."

"The better to pick someone up with, my dear," his friend responded as he flung the clothes at him. "Now for shoes..."

"How did we not realize how gay you are before your dream," Ichigo laughed. Renji turned and scowled at him as he chucked a pair of black combat boots his way.

"Shut up and put these on. Grab that chain with you moms ring on it too, it makes you look deep."

"It makes me look like an asshole unless people know what it is." Ichigo laced up the boots before pulling open the drawer in his bedside table and removing a silver chain with his mother's engagement ring on it. The band was platinum with several small diamonds inlaid around it. Isshin had said his mother hadn't wanted a single large stone mounted on the outside but instead for the small jewels to be set flush with the metal. It was a beautiful and unique piece and it made Ichigo feel closer to her. He tucked the ring into his shirt before running his fingers through his ridiculously messy hair, giving up quickly on getting it in any sort of order. He looked to his friend.

"Well, let's fuckin' go."

*****

Shuon was packed when they got there, full of Karakura locals and a large portion of its foreign population too. The two ordered drinks, Renji footing the tab against Ichigo's wishes, before leaning against the bar and watching the writhing dance floor. Ichigo was lost in thought when he noticed a small figure approaching them from the right, waving when he noticed who it was.

"Rukia, what's up?" The small woman gave the two a sideways grin and gave Renji a quick embrace. "What are you idiots doing here?"

"Killing time, miss midget," Ichigo called back with a cocky grin. She have him the finger before nodding her head at the floor behind them.

"Well if you have time to kill, who's going to dance with me?" Renji raised a brow at him as he shook his head before shrugging and following Rukia to the crowd, Ichigo waving them off and taking another drink of his beer. He scanned the room, adjusting the ridiculously tight shirt he wore in the process as he watched the world around him. Some people were obviously native to Karakura; they wore common trends and hairstyles and mainly stuck to each other. The others were different, and they liked to make it obvious; bright hair and eyes, some real and some not, and a unique and almost entirely dark wardrobe. Most of them stayed together too, but a few eyes strayed his way with brief, knowing smiles, like he was one of them too. It was odd, but a part of him agreed.

He was tracing over the different forms when he noticed someone standing at the back entrance watching the room too. Their height and broad shoulders struck a definitively male figure, and the man's head was covered with a black beanie. He was about to turn away when the man trained his eyes on him with precision.

Ichigo blinked, and felt electricity.

By the time he opened his eyes once more the man was already invisible. He scanned the room frantically and started to to think himself crazy again, until the light of the exit sign near the back entrance flashed off as the door opened, then on again. Ichigo pushed through the other patrons haphazardly, earning several "hey"s and "fuck you"s before reaching the door and flinging it wide, striding out into the alley behind the bar. He couldn't see anyone but he could still feel it; the pressure and sparks and current in his veins. It was growing farther away but he hit the street and followed it, almost like a force of gravity was pulling him into orbit down side streets and around corners. He tracked it for a long time until he realized he was standing next to a dilapidated building that looked to be occupied illegally. He was in a bad area of Karakura, a part of the prefecture called uchiki. The multistory building was a faded white, with what leftover paint there was peeling off the building in chunks. Ichigo could still feel the static around him but he wasn't being pulled about anymore. He turned around cautiously, eyeing the street, when he heard voices nearby.

"Konbanwa, stranger. Whassa cute thin' like you doin' in a place like dis?" Ichigo swiveled to meet the voice and saw three men standing at the mouth of the alley, the one who appeared to be the speaker sounding intoxicated. He frowned at them before another, lankier man stepped forward, looking to his friend.

"Look like he don' talk much, Takechi."

"Whassa matter baby, cat gotcha tongue," the man called Takechi slurred as he moved towards Ichigo, who stood up straighter but took a step back.

"Fuck off, I was just leaving," he called, pleased when his voice stayed even and strong. But the three just laughed at him, approaching quicker now.

"Aww, now come on baby don' you wanna play a lil' first?"

Then the lankier man reached out quicker than Ichigo would have expected, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward. He tensed and pushed him away before stepping forward and throwing a crushing blow to his face, not feeling the sting in his hand as he pulled away. The third man who hadn't spoke reached out to grab him from behind, but Ichigo was ready and swung his left leg behind him, delivering a kick to the man's shoulder. He was about to turn around and lay into Takechi when he felt a large knife press against his side and cut into the skin there, making him hiss as the cold heat traveled across the wound. He felt his stomach sink.

"You's a lot quicker than I'da thought, ya fuckin' ginger prick. But unless ya wanna get that pretty face a ya's hurt real bad, I think you'll do what I say, huh?" Ichigo felt the man's hand slither around his waist and grab at him through his jeans, making him want to wretch. He was trying to think of a way to get the knife from Takechi when he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and a deep, rumbling growl that sent a chill down his spine.

"Unless you want me to cut each of your fucking vertebrae from your gutless spine one by one, I suggest you get your hands off of him and the hell outta my alley.

"Tch, this ain't got nothing to do with ya Koga. I'll take his ass somewhere else then." There was silence for a moment before Ichigo heard Takechi scream, the hand pressing the knife to his waist falling away. He took the chance to step forward and turned, seeing Takechi bleeding from one of his wrists profusely. There was a man in a black beanie behind him holding a large, dripping balisong knife in his hand.

"Ya don't bind that off yer gonna die, Takechi. If ya don't want that to happen, you'll get out of here."

The injured thug gave one last groan before turning and running from the alley, holding his forearm as he went. Ichigo tried to turn back around to look at the figure but he only got halfway before he felt the world shift and he slumped to the side. He expected to feel the impact of the broken asphalt below him but instead he felt himself land against something burning hot. He forced his eyes open and looked above into the oceans in front of him that traced over his side with concern before he felt his weight disappear and the world started moving again.

"I told you not to come around here anymore. Baka."

Ichigo drifted off into unconsciousness.

*****

Cold...it's fucking cold.

Ichigo opened his eyes and saw a concrete ceiling above him. His side ached slightly, throbbing every time it was stretched as he breathed. After clearing his eyes from the haze of sleep, he looked around the room, gripping the back of the old couch he laid on to sit up. He saw a small and sparsely furnished room around him, filled with only the couch, a small table and chair, and an unlabeled box in one corner. The inside was barren and run down and...somewhat familiar. Swinging his feet off the couch, he tried to stand but was hit with a wave of lightheadedness, reaching out his arms to try and brace himself on the couch.

But his hands met something living instead, and as his vision cleared he saw sky blue hair and bottomless river eyes staring at him, two tattooed arms holding him upright. He felt his eyes clear slightly and widen and the man guided him back to the couch and sat him down.

"Koga."

The man said nothing in response, instead walking away before returning quickly with a porcelain mug of water and placing it before him. Ichigo took it dumbly, opening his mouth again to speak before being cut off.

"You lost a lot of blood. Drink."

Ichigo closed his mouth again before looking to the cup and sipping some of it, though he was unable to break eye contact as he did. The man was quietly crouched in front of him as he finished it, reaching his hand out and taking the chipped mug back to the kitchen. When he returned he sat on the floor in front of the couch again, looking out the window to their left. Ichigo wanted to say something but couldn't find words. He unconsciously wrapped an arm around his torso, feeling how cold his skin was and-

Skin?

He looked down and realized that his shirt was gone and his top half was bare, making his cheeks light up in the dark room. But his hand brushed something else and he looked to his right hip only to find a large bandage there over the cut from Takechi, the skin clean of blood. Ichigo traced the fabric before pulling his hand away and shivering a bit against the cool air of the room. When he turned back to Koga the man was watching him carefully, an odd expression on his face.

"What?"

Instead of responding, the blue haired man stood and lifted the dark pullover he wore over his head, revealing his own bare chest. Ichigo's face reddened again as the man held the garment out to him, cocking his head to the side slightly. He accepted it silently in awe, holding it in his lap before looking back to Koga. As he looked at his bare top half he saw a large scar tracing his chest and sternum underneath more tattoos.

"You gonna stare at me or put that on," he said quietly, making Ichigo's eyes snap back up to his. He stared into his blankly but with something underneath, one eyebrow raised slightly as he nodded to his sweatshirt. Ichigo picked it up and wiggled his arms inside before lifting it over his head and pulling the bottom half down. It was a couple sizes too big but was warm from the other man, and it smelled like musk and summer air and heat. Ichigo's head swam at the scent. He was so consumed that he didn't notice that Koga had disappeared silently in the short time it took him to put it on.

He heard a door close behind him and sat numbly on the couch, still staring at the pullover he wore. He suddenly felt his eyes grow heavy and he leaned back on the couch, body like lead and impossible to lift. He was almost asleep when he heard the sound of the door again and then gentle breathing near his ear. Strong arms braced his upper half and legs and laid him down lengthwise on the sofa before pulling away. Ichigo fought to stay awake, forcing his eyes open to try and see Koga again. The man's eyes met his before he leaned over and in a surprisingly tender gesture, placed the pads of two fingers on his eyelids, gently sliding them closed before the same hand ran through the front of his hair. The soft breathing got closer again and Ichigo remembered one last word before he succumbed to his dreams.

"Sleep."


	8. Chapter 8

Goddammit.

Grimmjow watched the sleeping boy on his sofa, face pulled into a fierce scowl. Almost two years of hiding himself from him, in plain sight no less, and now when he purposefully stayed away he had been found. 

He had never wanted to meet Kurosaki Ichigo. Yet now his prone form was lying helplessly in his den. 

My fuckin' luck.

Standing and retreating to the kitchen, he picked up his smokes before stepping out the window to the fire escape. It was already past two in the morning. He leaned on the rusted railing and released a cloud of smoke before stubbing the cigarette out and moving quietly to his bedroom. He changed into something comfortable before gathering his phone and keys and heading to the front door. Before he could open it he turned and took one last look at the body on his furniture. His chest felt tight.

He hated it.

Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, Grimmjow scrawled a note quickly and set it on Ichigo's bloody shirt he had folded next to the couch. He tried to stop himself from leaning over the boy and inspecting him but he couldn't, relenting to the desire to run his hand through his bright hair again.

The door shut almost silently behind him.

*****

Sleep.

Ichigo woke when light streamed into his eyes from the window across from him. He felt like shit and his hip hurt, and he thought to himself that he might need a new mattress. 

Until he remembered he was sleeping on a couch. And not just anyone's couch.

Ichigo sat up quickly, hissing when he felt the cut in his hip stretch. He scanned the room but saw no sign of him. 

Of Koga.

He stood up and walked around the back of the couch, seeing that the man's bedroom door was ajar.

"Koga," he called quietly, peeking through the crack only to find the room empty. There were no other rooms in the apartment that he might be in, so it was clear he had left in the night. It made Ichigo's chest hurt.

He hated that.

He circled back to the couch and was about to sit down when he noticed his shirt on the floor. He lifted it, noticing the large bloodstain on the right side, before he heard a small tapping sound on at his feet. He reached down and picked up the folded piece of paper that fell off of the garment, opening it and reading the almost perfect, calligraphic letters as his heart sank.

Be careful going home, and don't come back here. 

Ichigo read the lines repeatedly, hoping the words would somehow change before his eyes, but they kept the same configuration no matter how long he looked. To his left he saw a pad and pen lying on the ground filled with the same paper the note was written on. He picked them up and wrote his own response before tearing it out and setting to on the small kitchen counter. Then he gathered his shirt, locked the door from the inside, and left. 

Hitting the street, he looked around at the decaying world of uchiki. Similar boarded up and illegally occupied buildings dotted the streets surrounded by empty cans and broken glass. The sun was out but it was covered by a haze that left the place darker than the rest of the world, almost like it was destined to never reach this place. 

It kind of reminded Ichigo of himself.

He pushed his hands into the pocket of the too-large sweatshirt and started the trek home, weaving through the hard part of town and watching as it faded into the middle class suburbs of home like a gradient. He was on the front steps of the clinic almost too quickly and unlocked the door, stepping inside and looking around cautiously. When there was no sign of anyone, he climbed the stairs to his room and shut it behind him. 

His phone had died sometime in the night so he plugged it in and powered it up, wincing as the missed calls started to flood through. It hadn't even occurred to him that he had left Renji at the bar to follow a dead man into his lair. He listened to the ring patiently and braced himself for the onslaught.

"Ichigo holy shit, where have you been? Do you know how fucking worried I was?"

"I'm sorry Ren," he said with a sigh, hanging his head as he sat down at his desk.

"Where the hell did you wander off to," his friend responded, voice a bit less harsh but still laced with worry.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ichigo said with a humorless laugh. "We can talk about it later. For now, I'm sorry for freaking you out and I promise I'm fine. Talk you later, yeah?"

Although Renji was hard pressed to push the issue the two ended the call and Ichigo booted up his computer, burying himself in work to try and forget the feeling of being buried alive in his mind. 

*****

Grimmjow arrived back at the apartment around eleven that night, placing a cautious ear to the door to see if he could hear sounds of the boy. When it was silent on the other side he unlocked it carefully and leaned into the doorway, finding the room empty. He frowned.

It was terrible and relieving all at the same time. 

He slung his keys and phone to the couch before stripping off the hat he covered his hair with and the black pullover he'd worn throughout the day. He retreated into the kitchen and was pulling a cigarette from his pack when he saw a note on the counter, torn from the pad he left on the floor that morning. He opened it and read the even, all capital script silently.

Thank you for your help last night. I’ll do my best not to bother you again.

It made him feel nauseous. 

He wanted to go him. To watch him sleep like he used to, his steady breathing reassuring him as he sat on the roof near his window. He wanted to be with him.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. 

Setting the note down, he retreated to the fire escape and lit up, hoping the nicotine would calm his nerves. The light of the moon was pale and hazy and washed away any distinct characteristics of the world around him. He watched figures move in the alley below, exchanging items between each other as one searched for a substance that might bleach away the world, at least for the night. Turning his head back to the moon, he scowled as he heard his phone chime from the other room. He went inside and retrieved it, opening the message on the screen and reading it hastily. 

Make sure you have the dossier on Thursday for schobz. Details on checkpoint mailed with encrypt.

And that was why he had never wanted to meet Ichigo. Because of this world and the shit he was in and the things he did to survive because surviving was the only skill he learned as a child. Surviving was the only thing that had ever mattered. Not thriving or dreaming or loving, and none of the things that he knew his destined partner deserved from him. That was why he had planned to hide himself from Ichigo forever. 

But he hadn't been able to stay away. It started with bars, occasionally seeing him out with friends and that orange haired woman who fawned on him though he hated it. It had felt otherworldly just to be in the same room with him, and it quickly became so addicting that it wasn't enough. He found the name of his university and would watch him walk to lunch and classes, often alone. Then he found his address and would watch his silhouette dance behind his window from the street below. Finally, one night after the lights had went out in his room, Grimmjow had scaled the tree in front of the clinic and carefully climbed onto the roof. He had learned as time passed that Ichigo slept with his window open no matter the the of year, and as he sat silently on the roof beside the window he could hear the younger man's gentle breathing as he slept curled up in his duvet. 

The seasons changed and Grimmjow kept coming back, watching over Ichigo as he slept with his bare chest rising and falling evenly. He had watched over him for over a year and half, a silent and unseen spectator in his life while knowing he was supposed to be a part of it, but afraid of the consequences of doing so. So he had stayed hidden, always near but never in view, until a few weeks ago when Ichigo turned twenty two. He had purposefully hidden his whereabouts as his partner watched behind his own eyes, but he hadn't been able to simply stay in his apartment and sleep; he had two drops that night and they were nonnegotiable. But he thought he had hidden enough so that Ichigo wouldn't find him and he could stay a ghost in his life.

But life had a funny way of always throwing a wrench in the plans of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

All of a sudden he was face to face with the orangette in an alley, being stared at with awe and happiness and it made him want to scream as he watched those feelings be washed away by his reaction. He didn't know what else to do but try to scare him off; fear was the only way he thought he could protect him. But then he had seen him in the bar, Grimmjow feeling like an idiot for following him there in the first place, and then he had been jumped by those trivial assholes and they hurt him and Grimmjow saw red. And of course in his infinite stupidity he had taken Ichigo to his own home and cared for him. 

In other words, he had really fucked up. 

He went to his room, grabbing a battered acoustic guitar, before returning to his perch over the dark heart of Karakura to play until he saw the orange sun crest the horizon again. 

*****

Ichigo had been walking around for over an hour when he found himself on the outskirts of uchiki. He had told himself -  promised himself - that he wouldn't come here, but his feet had acted independently and led him against his mind's will. A few more steps and he would be outside the old whitewashed building where he told himself he wouldn't go again. 

He was about to turn around and leave when he heard something a few blocks away. At first he thought it must be in his head, but then the sound came again. Ichigo frowned. It sounded like…

Someone tuning a guitar?

Unable to resist his curiosity, he followed the notes as they were played. Sure enough he ended up in a familiar alley next to the whitewashed building he had spent last night in. He rounded it to the other side, looking for the source of the sound, when a melody started playing. It was undeniably close, but he was alone in the alley and couldn't see well enough to tell where it was coming from until a voice rang out from overhead.

"Change my attempt, 

Good intentions."

Ichigo looked up and saw the singer on his fire escape. The voice trailed through his veins and left him burning, like blue flames running across his tendons and ligaments.

"But I,

Will not,

Hide you from this,

I want you to help them. Please,

See,

The beating heart perched,

On my shirt."

Although he didn't recognize the song he felt as though he had known it his whole life, the way the chords hummed under his fingers like a childhood lullaby.

"The article read,

Living wasteland."

Koga's deep baritone wrapped around the notes in perfect pitch but there was something...else, too. He bled through the chorus skillfully as he approached the bridge.

"Heave the silver,

Hollow silver,

Piercing through another victim.

Turn and tremble,

Be judgemental..."

The song picked up quickly, Koga's voice still in even tune. The bridge climaxed before dropping off, the man's voice returning gentler but more passionate.

"Change my attempt,

Good intentions.

Limbs tight,

Skin tight.

Self inflicted,

His perdition."

Perdition. A term with Latin roots describing and environment of eternal human torment and suffering similar to the Christian's Hell. An existence pervaded by all things evil. A consciousness absorbed by pain. The song picked up again and Ichigo could almost feel tears in his eyes.

"Change my attempt,

Good intentions.

Should I, 

Could I."

His voice rose and fell with beautiful pain, cracking like the paint on the walls around him. Ichigo had never heard someone sing in a way that affected him so. It hurt, but was unnaturally comforting. It made him want to be close to that voice. The final notes rang out from above like a beacon, the world being dipped back into its miserable, gray silence and Ichigo stood frozen inside of it, uncertain of what to do. His thoughts wrestled back and forth, the force of his hope and his grasp on reality fighting desperately for control.

I told him I wouldn’t come back here, but he looks so beautiful under the moon.

*****

He could feel him nearby. Ichigo was close; certainly within earshot if not visible. But for whatever reason he couldn’t stop; he still let the song tumble forth sloppily and imperfect even though he knew he was listening. As he played the last chord he focused on the feeling of his partner before tilting his head down. He saw him standing in the alley, bright hair like a beacon in the night. Although it was too dark to make out the other’s features he could feel it when their eyes met. The voice in his head was screeching, commanding him to go inside, to ignore the boy, to not be selfish and endanger him just because he wanted more than distance, if only for tonight.

He set down his instrument before pulling on his jacket and walking down the apartment stairs and out to the street. He turned the corner and peered into the alley, unsure of what to say but positive that he had to say something. 

But he was alone.

He felt something inside him crack, letting the pain seep through his joints and muscle as he turned his face up to the hollow moon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I lied, I have three chapters for you. I just couldn't resist. Pretty please leave me some comments on these, they make my day.  
> Until we meet again.
> 
> P.S: The song featured in chapter seven is called Wasteland by 10 Years. You should look up the acoustic version and give it a listen because its and incredibly powerful song.

Ichigo sat at the bar in Shuon watching his friends on the floor. Byakuya had a rare night off so Renji insisted on going out, which meant Ichigo was drug along, albeit against his will. He sipped his beer as he thought.

It had been three weeks. Three weeks of no sky hair, no ocean eyes, and no electricity flowing through his veins. Three weeks since he had heard Koga's song from above before running away like the coward he was. He reasoned that it was because of him, and because he told him not to go back there. He told himself over and over that Koga had taken him to his apartment that night only because he was a decent person and Ichigo had been hurt, not because he knew him and wanted to be close and to protect him. 

Not because he knew that Ichigo was his destiny.

He saw Renji wave from the dance floor and he flipped up his middle finger in return, seeing his redheaded friend tilt his head back in laughter. He excused himself from his partner before striding over to the bar.

"Let's go. We're dancing," he said with a hand outstretched.

"I don't know what's up with you and your use of plural pronouns but I'm going to keep my ass right here."

"Come on, Ichi," he pouted, eyes growing impossibly large. Ichigo scowled; it was near impossible to say no to that face. He turned and finished his beer before sending a kind "fuck you" to his friend and following him out to the floor. Some ridiculous club song came on and Ichigo immediately felt self conscious. He enjoyed dancing, but wasn't fond of crowds. Before he could dwell on it too much he felt Renji's hand on his pulling him close and moving his hips against him, forcing his own to move in time. He had always envied the redheads carelessness. Renji had always been free of everything. He wasn't concerned with other people's perception of him, and his blithe disregard for society's norms and expectations was truly admirable. He held himself to only his own standards. Ichigo smiled at the thought as he tried to forget the world, keeping step with his friend as they danced together.

Before he could so much as blink the bartender was giving his last call. The club's patrons had slowly trickled out as the night went by, leaving only a few small groups of people behind. Ichigo had work to do so he waved goodbye to Renji and the Kuchikis before heading out and down the street.

Ichigo's route home was longer than necessary but he took it intentionally. The walk was peaceful and he took his time ambling through late night Karakura before making his way to the clinic. He approached his door, noticing a dark SUV parked out front. He considered it for only a moment before opening his door and making his way upstairs. It drove away soon after.

*****

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed him, Koga-san.”

Grimmjow ground his teeth as he watched the middle aged businessman he knew only as  schobz pull out an envelope and hand it to him. Grimmjow snatched it away before rifling through the contents and feeling his blood run cold. 

“You’ve been watching him for some time now,” the man said with a disinterested look. “Who is he to you?”

“He’s no one, and he’s not involved in this.”

“It would be unwise of you to try and lie to me,”  schobz said quietly with a chuckle before finally turning his eyes up to meet his.

“He’s just another project,” Grimmjow said, trying to keep his voice level through the rage that filled him. “A friend of a friend’s boyfriend. She was worried he might be mixed up in something unsavory so he contacted me. That’s all.”

“And in the six months that you’ve been following him you haven’t been able to obtain an answer one way or another? Either he’s the smartest criminal known to man, or there’s something you’re hiding from me.”

“Look,” Grimmjow responded lowly, irritation seeping only slightly into his tone, “he is just a boy. There’s no reason for you to bother with him. If it irks you that badly I’ll tell the contact I can’t tail him anymore.” The older gentleman gave him a wan smile, folding and unfolding his newspaper in his lap even though it was abundantly clear he wasn’t reading it. He looked back down to fake apathy anyway.

“You needn’t worry about us, Koga-san. Only that boy. Unless he really is nothing to you, like you claim.”

*****

“You sure you don’t just want to kick it here tonight? The clinic is pretty far from here, and the trains aren’t running.”

Ichigo smiled at Renji’s concern, placing a hand on his shoulder and raising an eyebrow.

“What am I, a girl? I can walk myself home. Catch you guys later, yeah?” 

He departed from his friend’s uptown apartment and started the walk home. It was certainly a bit of a trek; without the train it would take him just under an hour to reach home at a comfortable pace. But Ichigo was fond of the evening atmosphere, taking in the lights and sounds around him. He crossed a large bridge before hitting the streets of downtown and was about halfway there when he started to feel... odd. He slowed his pace a bit, tilting his head back and forth to try and pick up any unusual sounds, but he didn’t notice anything alarming. He shrugged it off with the reasoning of too many beers and not enough sleep.

Before he knew it he was at the center of the city, passing through the winding maze of concrete jungle. He turned a corner and was passing one of many dark side streets when he felt a hand latch onto his wrist and yank him into the maw. Before he could react a hand clamped over his mouth and a deep, familiar voice wound its way next to his ear.

“Don’t move.”

Ichigo felt like his heart might explode but he dumbly did as he was told, staying perfectly still and making not a sound. A few minutes passed by when two men walked past the mouth of the alley, not exploring its depths but eyes searching the open part of the street. Ichigo looked back to Koga as they passed, but he simply shook his head, hand still pressed to his jaw.

A few more moments like years ticked by and the men passed again in the opposite direction, speaking quickly to each other and scanning the area meticulously. One of them pressed a hand to his ear and spoke, and within seconds a black truck drove up to the side of the street. The two got in the vehicle before it sped away.

Ichigo looked back to Koga again, his beautiful eyes trained diligently on the street, and after another minute he slowly released his grip on him and backed away. He turned to the side and hung his head slightly, jaw set hard. He was thinking.

“What’s going on,” Ichigo asked quietly, relieved when his voice came out even and sure. Koga glanced at him for only a second before returning his eyes to the ground.

“Can’t you tell when you’re being followed?”

“Followed,” he echoed, confused at the thought.

“Those men were following you.”

“Why on earth would two guys follow me? I think you’re overreacting-”

“You could tell that something was off. I saw it in your face. Always trust your gut with things like that, it’ll keep you alive.” Ichigo stared at him dumbfounded as he pulled a cigarette from his pack and lit it. He nodded once and then started to make his way out of the alley.

“Wait!”

Koga stopped moving before tilting his head just slightly to the side.

"Who are you?"

Ichigo watched as his eyebrow raised before he turned enough to look in his eyes.

"I'm nobody to you."

"That may be the case," Ichigo said stepping forward, "but I can't be nobody to you if you knew those guys were following me."

"I happened to be around," Koga growled at him with narrow eyes.

"You happened to be walking straight through downtown at about two in the morning and be keeping pace with me to see those guys? Are you joking?"

The older man straightened before glaring at him, flicking away his unfinished cigarette as he rounded on him and stalked forward until their noses almost touched, Ichigo undecided as to whether he wanted to punch him or kiss him.

"Who the hell do you think you are kid?"

"Who I am doesn't matter to me anymore," he said without breaking eye contact. "You, Koga, are the only thing that matters now because I can't get you out of my fucking head from that dream even though you must have never dreamed of me."

As soon as he had uttered the words he felt himself thrown into the wall of the alley and Koga was in his face again, lips split apart in a frightening scowl.

"I don't know how many times I have to fucking tell you. My name isn't Koga."

“Well how am I supposed to know if that’s what everyone calls you?”

“I have no choice,” he yelled, pulling away immediately and looking around for spectators. The look is his eyes was rage but it was bitten back by fear. Ichigo watched him as he cursed under his breath.

“What are you hiding from,” he asked quietly, watching the man’s angular face snap back to him, the fear blooming fuller. He didn’t speak but his eyes widened. 

“Not what,” Ichigo said again, looking deeper into his soul with a tilt of his head. “Who. Who is it you’re running from?”

“Shut up,” he said quietly voice cracking almost unnoticeably.

He instantly felt his his indignation fade as he watched the unknown torment that brewed in the taller man’s mind like a tempest. He stood with his arms still extended, trapping Ichigo between his own body and the wall behind him. He reached up a tentative hand and placed it on his bicep, bright blue eyes watching the contact before looking back to him. Ichigo grazed his fingertips all the way down to his wrist before dropping his arm back to his side. The man in front of him stepped forward, closing some of the distance before he leaned forward, his lips grazing Ichigo’s ear as he spoke.

"If I tell you my name," he whispered, "will you promise to never repeat it to anyone else?" He looked at the blue haired man with surprise, feeling that familiar, fiery electricity between them that suffocated him like cotton in his throat. He nodded once before the older man pulled back to face him, still close enough to feel the tempting heat of his skin. His ocean eyes swirled like whirlpools, emotions unreadable on his face but frenzied as they swirled in the blue depths that couldn't be quieted. After what seemed like eternity he spoke again.

"Close your eyes."

"What," Ichigo asked with confusion.

"Just close them," the man repeated. Knowing it was against his better judgment, he let his eyes slide closed. The world went dark and he was still, silent, waiting and listening for whatever would come next. He felt Koga - or whatever his name was - return his lips to his ear again, breathing faint and warm as it dusted across his collarbones. He turned his head in and Ichigo felt their cheeks brush as he presumably stood up to his full height. He held his breath as a hand came to rest on his cheek, fingers outlining his jaw gently, before his thumb pressed up on his chin and tilted his face skyward.

Oh my god.

Tentative lips pressed softly on his own. Ichigo had never expected the contact to be so gentle; to be more specific, he never truly expected any contact at all. But here he was with this man's hand settling on his waist, his nose brushing gently against his cheek, and his lips slowly guiding his open because there was no way he could refuse. Ichigo lifted his arms up and wrapped them behind his neck, pulling him until he felt their hips flush with each other. He heard him sigh at the contact before the hand on his waist dipped down, and Ichigo felt it slide up the side of his shirt, touching only the smallest section of his skin but giving him chills nonetheless. The other's breath came faster as he ran his teeth along his bottom lip. 

"Koga," he whispered reflexively, his back arching slightly as his teeth grazed down his lip again. He felt the man pull back, his hands falling away from Ichigo's body, and was about to open his eyes when he kissed him gently again, lips staying close as he spoke.

"Grimmjow," he whispered back against Ichigo's lips. "My name is Grimmjow." 

"Grimmjow," Ichigo echoed, feeling the exhale like a weight had been lifted from him. He knew instantly that it was true, could feel in his bones and ligaments and the blood that his veins carried the significance of that name. That was the name of the person he was supposed to be with forever. The force of that knowledge was so powerful it was almost enough to make his legs go weak. 

"Yes,” came the airy response, “again."

“Grimmjow,” he called quietly, threading his fingers into his hair and pulling him close before whispering it once more into his ear like a mantra. He heard him stutter out a breathy groan before he kissed him again, a smile on his lips. He then felt him pull away, pressing a finger to his lips as they separated.

Ichigo smiled and stood, waiting for the next command, to be close to him again, but after a few moments he felt nothing. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked at the alley around him. 

He was alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, friends.
> 
> So here is an update, finally. Writing has unfortunately become a struggle for me. I recently just haven't had the passion for it that I used to, and I'm beginning to think I might have lost my mojo. But I promised you all I wouldn't abandon my fic, and I'm not a liar, so hell or high water I will complete it.  
> It just may take more time than I thought.  
> I hope you'll all stick with me. Until next time.  
> kurokun

Grimmjow dashed into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, chest heaving from his sprint home. At least that's why he would say he was out of breath. It certainly wasn't from Ichigo, his lips just as soft as he had imagined, the way he called his name, his real name-  
_Stop._  
He leaned his back against the door, cursing himself. The single most stupid, reckless thing he could do was tell someone his real name. It was a danger and a burden just to hear it aloud, but of course he had been so fucking wrapped up in the younger man that he had blindly ignored that for his own satisfaction.  
But god, had it been just that, to hear him whisper that name to him almost desperately. Just the memory gave him chills even now.  
He let his back slide down the door until he hit the floor, pulling his knees up and leaning his elbows on them as he held his head. He found himself drifting back to Ichigo's words, saying that he had never dreamed of him. That had stung more than expected. But after their interactions so far it was no wonder the boy thought his dream was a fake; after all, he had pushed him away numerous times until tonight. It had been a long time since he had thought of his own yumemiru unmei no hito. Ichigo had been twenty at the time, a sophomore in college and working part time in his father's clinic. He had woken early, staring out his window for a few minutes before going to the bathroom mirror. And that's when he had seen him for the first time. It had been indescribable. His deep, red-brown eyes reflected the light in a way he had never thought possible. His skin was flawless and his hair was as bright and untamed as the sun itself.  
It was the first time that Grimmjow had ever found something beautiful.  
He had followed him throughout that day, watching his life unfold and seeing how peaceful and simple it was. A diligent student and loving son without a care in the world. And once he awoke it had frightened him so badly to imagine disturbing that life with his. Now it was years later and he had begun to do the very thing he feared most: corrupt his tranquility.  
Grimmjow finally stood and went to his perch on the fire escape, but his thoughts were still clouded.  
" _Who is it you're running from?"_  
No one. Everyone. Ghosts. Most often himself. The last time he had spoken to Nnoitra back home he said that there were still people looking for him. And though he had tried to remain anonymous to his clients there were some, such as _schobz_ , that wanted to know more. Mostly for the purpose of using him without pay, but also for no other reason than men like him craved power, whether it was over a business or other people. Knowing all of that he had still made the decision to tell Ichigo his name.  
He felt like a fool. And also like it wasn't enough. He wanted more of him.  
Just to make sure he got home safe.  
He put out his cigarette and grabbed his keys as he left, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. Before he could blink his feet had led him across the street from Ichigo's home, between two neighboring houses. He saw no light on in the bedroom and was about to get closer when a shadow appeared in front of his window and it opened. Ichigo stepped out onto the roof, clad only in a form fitting pair of sleep pants, before pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on his arms. The younger man watched the sky with a smile on his face, Grimmjow barely able to make out the slight dimples in his cheeks. He found himself smiling in return, feeling easier knowing he was okay. He was about to head back home when a black SUV rolled down the street without lights on before stopping in front of the Kurosaki clinic. He watched as two men stepped out of the vehicle and motioned for Ichigo to speak with them.  
_Don't do it_ , he thought with his stomach in his throat. But the orangette simply reached a hand in his pocket, then swung down the tree to the ground. He had to almost physically hold himself back as he watched them talk together, using all of his restraint to keep his feet planted and simply watched the strangers talk to his partner.  
*****  
"You're Kurosaki Ichigo-san, correct?"  
"How can I help you gentleman? It's past two in the morning."  
"We're awful sorry for the inconvenience," the taller one said with no sincerity whatsoever.  
"We have a few questions about a man we've been looking for," the lankier one said quickly after. Ichigo frowned but nodded at the two to continue.  
"Have you ever met someone named Koga, Kurosaki-san?"  
"Not that I can recall," Ichigo said without hesitation even as his stomach did gymnastics inside him. "What is this regarding?"  
"Unfortunately it's confidential, but we've had business dealings with this man and think he may have been less than honest with us. He's about six foot two, and has blue eyes. You're sure you haven't met him?"  
"I don't have any friends or colleagues that match that description."  
The two looked at each other slowly, Ichigo doing his best to stay externally calm.  
"What is it you do for a living, Kurosaki-san," the taller one asked gruffly.  
"I work with computers. What is it to you?"  
"Oh nothing," the lankier replied, grinning oily. "But on the subject of employment, have you ever heard of information brokers?"  
Ichigo frowned harder at the question, starting to feel his skin crawl as he looked between the two.  
"I've heard of it. They're just people who specialize in trading valuable information to different parties for payment. It's romanticized in the media more than it actually exists. It's a pretty unnecessary role in the age of the internet. Is this just a quiz on how many different odd jobs I've heard of or do you have a point?"  
"I think that will be all," the larger man said before pulling out a business card and handing it to him. The clean block letters denoted him as Makishima Isobe. He nodded as he and his associate turned and got back into their vehicle and drove off, leaving Ichigo alone on the sidewalk. He sighed, letting his anxiety flow out with his breath.  
As the adrenaline from lying wore off, he recognized the feeling of being watched. Scanning the street slowly, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He considered investigating further, but instead turned and climbed back up the tree to the roof, making himself comfortable again. He watched the stagnant sky and thought about the impromptu meeting.  
_An information broker..._  
It was an odd thing to think of in the twenty first century. What he had told the men had been true; an information broker in its original form was unnecessary when most information could be found in electronic transmissions of various sorts. But if someone was especially good with computers and could manipulate them to get confidential or protected information, that could be incredibly valuable as well as profitable. Like someone stealing the prototype for a new software for a competitor and then corrupting the original and only copy the producer had.  
Kind of like what Kaizō-san had explained Grimmjow had done for Teigo Productions.  
It made a surprising amount of sense. The shady meetings in the middle of the night, large payments made entirely in cash, and living in unregistered housing all corresponded with someone who dealt in the less-than-legal business of transferring sensitive data. But it irked him to think about Grimmjow being dishonest in his transactions. It was a weird and conflicting thought but Ichigo simply couldn't believe that Grimmjow would hustle someone. After all, the continued business would be much more profitable to him than burning the bridge. Ichigo sighed and stepped back into the window to his room, and was about to settle into bed when he heard his computer chime.  
He walked over to the desk and read the prompt on the screen. It said that an unwanted application was requesting access to his device. Loading the details to the program, he looked at its capabilities and realized that it was some form of encrypted messaging service. His mind wandered back to his dream and the app that Grimmjow used on his PDA. He decided to allow it to download, the process only a few seconds, before a screen popped up asking him to choose an encryption key for his messages and a screen name. He did so, and was just copying the key when his computer pinged again and a message popped up with a different key from a hidden user. As he downloaded it, the message blinked before a screen name appeared.  
_kgaXV_.  
The window blinked again as a new message was received and unencrypted instantly using the downloaded key.  
_kgaXV: Your key?_  
Ichigo selected the code and sent it to him, waiting another minute before typing a message.  
**kizgtsu: Who is this?**  
_kgaXV: You know who this is._  
Ichigo’s pulse started to race as he stared at the screen. He was about to start another message when the application pinged once more.  
_kgaXV: What did they want?_  
**kizgtsu: Who?**  
_kgaXV: They were the ones following you. What did they ask?_  
 **kizgtsu: They wanted to know if I knew someone named Koga, and then asked me if I knew what in information broker was.**  
There was no response for several minutes, and Ichigo was starting to wonder if Grimmjow had left the application. He was standing from his chair, ready to call it a night, when a message appeared again.  
_kgaXV: What did you tell them?_  
**kizgtsu: I have no acquaintances that matched the description they gave me, and an information broker is much more a concept than a real profession. It’s pretty useless in the information age. Was that right?**  
_kgaXV: You won’t have to deal with them again._  
He stared at the last line on the screen and felt a sinking in his stomach. Something in the back of his mind itched and burned as he considered the implications of Grimmjow’s words.  
**kizgtsu: What do you mean?**  
_kgaXV: I’m leaving, and taking my problems with me. It isn’t something you should worry about._  
**kizgtsu: How can I not worry? You can’t leave.**  
There was another long span of silence in between the pings from the messenger before he received the next one.  
_kgaXV: I won’t let them hurt you. This is for the best._  
Ichigo’s heart ached as he read, making a connection from their interaction earlier. The men he spoke to, or whoever they worked for, were the people Grimmjow was running from. But he wasn’t afraid of them. What he was afraid of was other people getting hurt because of him. He breathed out slowly, setting his fingers on the keys again.  
**kizgtsu: Is that why you avoided me and pretended not to know who I was? Because you were afraid I’d get hurt? If you leave, there won’t be anyone here to make sure I don’t. Isn’t that worse than being close to me and knowing if something will happen?**  
The silence in between messages was deafening. He stared at the screen and waited, chewing his bottom lip anxiously. Seconds passed like years with no response. After almost 20 minutes of nothing, he finally relented, the sorrow swallowing him up like a fog.  
Ichigo retreated to the edge of his bed, the light of the early morning moon still streaming through the window behind him. His mind was impossibly overloaded and blank all at once. He gazed out to the street, watching as the rain started to leak down from the blackened sky. The sound was soothing, though it had no power to dispel his worry. His eyes were grazing the street when he saw a figure standing perfectly still between two houses across the street and goosebumps formed on his skin.  
Without thinking he crawled out onto the roof, unfazed by the drops that collected quickly on his skin, and watched the shadow from afar. Slowly he saw it step forward into the light of a street lamp, hood enough to cover his hair but eyes shining bright blue. His face wore a solemn expression mixed with something else that looked like guilt. Ichigo felt his breath catch in his chest and spoke before thinking.  
"You going to stand there and get soaked or come inside?" He watched as the figure looked around before striding across the street and scaling the tree, slipping lithely onto the roof. Ichigo watched him, noticing he looked nervous, and then turned and stepped back into his bedroom. He turned and looked to the other expectantly, but he just sat still on the roof.  
"Is everything okay," Ichigo called from the window sill.  
"I can't," he said quietly.  
"Can't what?"  
"Come inside. I shouldn't be here in the first place."  
Ichigo was about to respond when he remembered the fear in his ocean eyes earlier, and his desire to protect him. There was something about the two of them being together that terrified him. Ichigo sighed and stepped back out into the rain, sitting with his chin on his knees next to the older man. It was quiet between them before Ichigo spared a glance to his left and saw Grimmjow staring at him with a bewildered expression.  
"What?"  
"Why are you out here," he asked almost like a confused child. Ichigo couldn't help but smile.  
"I wanted to be with you before I even knew your name. Do you really think some precipitation or some weird guys asking me questions would stop me now?" He looked him for another moment before turning away, staring out into the street. Ichigo watched him, feeling his curiosity burn the back of his throat. He wanted to know more; no, he wanted to know everything. Endless questions swirled through his brain until he thought he might explode.  
"What is it," Grimmjow asked quietly, making him jump slightly at the broken silence.  
"I just...I don't know. I want to-"  
"Know," the larger man finished, glancing at him again. Ichigo nodded, feeling his cheeks burn slightly. Grimmjow sighed, wiping the rain from his face.  
"It's complicated."  
"I have time."  
He trained a blue eye on him from the side, Ichigo shivering under the scrutiny but refusing to look away.  
"You can't blame me for wanting to know who you are," he continued, seeing his blue eyes narrow slightly. "I mean after all, you are my soulmate."  
He watched his face soften slightly before he reached out a hand and touched his cheek. Ichigo reached up and pressed his own palm against the back of it, feeling how warm his skin was even though he was soaked through with rain.  
"I've just...I've missed you somehow. It doesn't make any sense, I know. But it's true."  
"I know," he replied softly, tracing a small circle on his jaw with the pad of his thumb. His face felt cold and bare as the large hand pulled away.  
"But telling you what you want to know is dangerous."  
"Will you at least tell me why you can't go by your own name?"  
"You don't want to know that, Ichigo," he responded, voice dark enough to give the orangette a chill.  
"I do," he said quietly, feeling the fire bubble up in his chest again. "I want to know why you're hiding, what you're afraid of. Please, just-"  
"No," he replied fiercely, "you don't. You don't want to know who I am."  
"You act like you're some wanted man or something," Ichigo spat out, feeling himself get more and more irritated. He expected a rebuttal, but instead the man to his left was silent, still staring into the distance. It was uncomfortable. After several uncomfortable minutes, he finally spoke again.  
"And what if I was?"  
Ichigo felt ice crackling through his veins, turning his head quickly to look at him. Grimmjow's face was slack, but his jaw was set tight. His eyes were far away and cold, just like they had been the first time Ichigo saw them. He turned to face him, moving slightly forward as he did so, making the smaller man slide back.  
"What if," he breathed, "your destiny was a murderer?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations, all.  
> So here is the next chapter. things are going to start getting pretty real here as we move forward, so please prepare yourself for some less-than-fluffy updates. Please leave me some comments below and lemme know what you're thinking.
> 
> Regards, kurokun

"Well hello, Nnoitra. It's been a while."

He narrowed his eye at the man in front of him, dragging heavily on his cigarette as he leaned against the broken brick wall behind him. Tossing away the butt, he stood to his full height, several inches taller than the other man who simply smirked at him.

"What can I help ya with, detective," he bit out with obvious malice.

"Oh Nnoitra, we've known each other for so long. Just call me Aizen."

Nnoitra stood still, staring at the detective with every ounce of disdain he could muster. When it became apparent he wasn't going to respond, the shorter man spoke again.

"So how have things been for you?"

"Its a fuckin paradise in this ward, 'tween the addicts runnin' shit and the drive bys on the main. Nothin' new. Why don't ya tell me why the fuck yer here?"

Aizen gave him an oily smile in return, chuckling under his breath.

"You know you won't be able to hide him forever, don't you? If he calls you, we'll trace it. If he sends letters, we'll read them. And if he has the gall to come back to Osaka, then I promise you we'll be there, cuffs in hand. We know he's not dead, and we'll catch him, Nnoitra, sooner or later."

"I ain't got any idea who the fuck yer even talkin' bout."

"Of course you don't," Aizen responded smugly, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat before turning away and looking across the street. Just before stepping off the curb, he called out over his shoulder.

"The next time you talk to Grimmjow, send him my regards."

*****

The room was dark and smelled heavily of mold, dust, and something similar to death. She had smelled death before.

He had smelled exactly like death.

She tried to run her hand through her hair, but it had been too long since its last wash that her fingers immediately became stuck in the knots there.

The shower was running to her right, the motel's tiny decaying bathroom occupied by her last customer. She couldn't help but wonder why they were the ones always showering when she was the one who was so dirty.

"My little dirty girl..."

The trashcan was close to the bed, so she wretched up the little bit of bile and water in her stomach before pulling on her T-shirt, ragged jeans, and Chuck's with the soles half pulled off. Grabbing the money he had left on the nightstand, she left the room as quickly as she could.

It was dark outside by then, and getting colder by the hour. During the summer, she had no problem sleeping outside, the comfortable night air like a blanket when she never had one. But as the months changed into autumn, it became harder to bear the elements. She had no home, no family, no money, and no God.

There was only one place she could go.

Jogging through an alley, she wove her way through the masses of buildings and trash until she stood in front of a large brick apartment building. It wasn't pretty by any means, and much of the place was in desperate need of repairs, but inside was warm and there were no bugs or addicts or pimps that would beat her and take her cash. Walking up the stairs to the second floor, she knocked on the last door to the left.

"Fuck is it?"

"Nnoi," she called back quietly, unnerved at the heightened irritation in his voice. She heard some bumping and a soft curse before the door swung open, the face there looking like that of a man who saw the dead.

"Nellie."

*****

Nnoitra paced the living room until he heard the door to the bathroom open, Nel standing there with a towel in her hands as she dried her hair. He noticed that the natural jade green had faded like her skin, both looking pallid and sallow. She gave him an uncomfortable glance before stepping into the room and sitting in an old high back chair, curling her legs underneath her.

"How long's it been since ya had real food and a shower," he asked, feeling tired as he looked at her. She smiled sadly at him but didn't respond, picking up the carton of take out that he had left on the table for her. She took a bite and chewed slowly before looking up at him.

"You still remember that I don't like the peppers," she whispered, and he felt his heart sink deep into the floor.

"Course I do, Nellie."

"I'm so sorry to ask this of-"

"Don't ya dare say it," he responded, walking over behind the chair and picking up the towel from the arm. With an unusually gentle hand he picked up her hair and wrapped the towel around it, trying to get it as dry as he could.

"Ya always insisted on not cuttin' yer hair but ya never dry it right. Gonna get herself sick," he grumbled halfheartedly.

"You're always so good to me Nnoi." He grumbled some more before retreating into the bathroom and grabbing the wide toothed comb he used on his own hair, then trying to make sense of all the knots and matts in Nel's mane without pulling on them. By the time he had gotten most of them out, she had finished eating, Nnoitra returning the comb before sitting in front of her in the silence.

"Have you heard from him," she asked quietly, picking at her cuticles.

"He messaged me last week, said he was alright but had some shit goin' on. Somethin' bout his destined one."

Nelliel's ears perked up and she looked at him, face clearly showing her excitement.

"He found his soulmate? After all this time?"

"More like soulmate found him, I think."

"I hope he's happy," she said quietly, Nnoitra watching as she chewed her bottom lip. Ever since they were little, he knew that meant she was trying not to cry, and sure enough he could see unshed tears pooling at her waterline.

"Ya know he wouldn't be happy seein' the girl he think of as 'is baby sister like this. It'd kill him to know yer workin' the street."

Her jaw quivered harshly, and he saw that her teeth were almost breaking through the skin.

"I know," she barely whispered, voice thick with her anguish.

"He still asks how his girl is doin' every time we talk. And I lie each time cause I think he'd die if he knew you were a pro. But Grimm always asks bout' his baby girl."

Finally the dam broke, tears flowing down her her cheeks and she sobbed.

"I miss him so much, Nnoi," she cried, standing and hugging herself as she fell apart, the shattered shards of her clay doll exterior crashing undone. Nnoitra stood too, wrapping his arms around the much smaller woman and trying his best to comfort her. As he embraced her, he could feel the delicate bones of her shoulders and ribs press against him. She had lost so much weight, gotten so unhealthy. But he held her anyway, ignoring the pain in his own chest at her transformation.

In a matter of six years she had turned from a sweet, kind girl into a common whore facade filled with ghosts of dead men inside it and it killed him to see the love of his life destroy herself. She was only twenty one, two years younger than him, so she didn't know what she meant to him yet. But he did. He was so in love with her it hurt. Running a hand through her hair, he whispered softly to her.

"It's all gonna come together one day, Nellie. I promise."

*****

The fear in his eyes looked like the fear he used to see in hers before he knew it was happening. Before anyone knew what was happening.

"What are you talking about?"

Ichigo shifted back ever so slightly, the distance immediately noticed like a new space between his ribs.

"You heard me. What if I was a killer?" He watched Ichigo as his head processed the words. He expected him to run, to scramble through the window behind them but instead he just sat up stiffly, looking Grimmjow right in his eyes.

"I don't believe you would ever hurt someone without a reason."

Grimmjow felt like his brain was splitting. He didn't understand. How couldn't he see? How did his eyes avoid all the insanity in him, how couldn't he hear the monster that was beating on the wall behind his chest? How could he just ignore all of the dirty, chipped and broken pieces of the shell he had become?

This is why he never wanted to meet Kurosaki Ichigo.

He stood and reached for the large tree branch in front of him, swinging down to the earth away from the orange heavens and ignoring the calls of the sole angel there as he went back to the place where he belonged. The place where people hurt each other, where the sky never really dawned and the only thing you could ever hear was white noise.

He didn't remember anything until a plate broke itself at his feet and his apartment appeared, destroyed by the monster who finally managed to get out.   
*****

"You sure about this? You could get in a lot of trouble you know."

"Is that really a question?"

"Got it. His email is up. Go."

Ichigo typed the code into the email and sent it from an anonymous IP address, Renji fraudulently listed as the sender. He waited patiently, and in a matter of a couple minutes the program responded back and he saved the new file it created.

"He opened it. It should be done by 3AM. You said he's graveyard tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Renji said with a sigh, "he'll be there. If this ever comes back on you, you better not tell him I helped."

"As if you could help with this. Everyone knows you're like a toddler doing calculus with computers."

Ichigo disconnected the call and went over to his bed, laying down to rest his body even though he knew he wouldn't sleep. He hadn't for two days, since Grimmjow had left his roof.

Since he'd had to spend the nights alone again.

When Grimmjow had looked at him with something like God in his eyes and told him he was a murderer, Ichigo had been scared. Less because he had killed someone. If he was honest, that's not what made him afraid. What really scared him was that he was so entwined in the blue haired man that he didn't care. He didn't have the mind to even question what had happened. If Grimmjow had hurt another person, it was because he was protecting another. Because they hurt him first. Because they _deserved_ it.

But before he could hear the truth of it, his destiny had ran from him. He was still trying to protect him in the only way that he knew how: by keeping him as far away from his life as possible.

But Ichigo wasn't going to accept that anymore.

So he came up with a plan. Yes, it was intricate. Yes, it took the full extent of his two sleepless days to write the program necessary to complete it. And yes, it was incredibly illegal and if he was caught, he would be subject to years in a federal penitentiary. But none of that compared to the violent desire to know that was still squirming behind his eyes.

When Byakuya opened the fake email from Renji, he had triggered the program to start. It wouldn't show itself for some time; for now, it would simply be collecting. The program would write an entire copy of everything on the computer, from the OS, up, until it had a perfect replication of a Karakura Police Department computer stored in a cloud that only Ichigo could access.

When it was done, it would disguise itself as a administrator-installed program and ask the user to restart the device to install an update. When that was complete, Ichigo would have a live window into Byakuya's computer. And when his shift ended at 6AM and he left and locked his office, Ichigo would be able to boot the device up and use it to look through every police database that Captain Kuchiki had access to. And he could find record of any possible connection between Grimmjow and an unresolved homicide. For now, all he had to do was wait.

But that was the most excruciating part of the entire event.

Rolling over onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling and watched the dark play spots and shadows on it. His father had asked him today if he was alright. It had been a long time since he had looked so bad that Isshin had done that. He knew that his family was starting worry, even his younger sisters. They noticed how withdrawn he had become since he had the dream. They saw the dark circles from the lack of sleep, the pale skin from hours in front of the monitor, and the new little lines in his forehead from constantly scowling in thought. They could see him changing.

But they couldn't see his pieces. They were blind to the shackles on his ankles, the vices gripping his thighs, the vines that were growing up his spine with their flowers blooming behind his eyes or the hand that was constantly squeezing his throat so he couldn't breathe. If he wanted to breathe, that is.

Only one person could see the pieces.

_Grimmjow sees them._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, one and all.  
> So here's chapter twelve. I don't have much to say right now. Hope you enjoy, leave me some comments below.  
> kurokun

The room was dark except for the light of the computer screen, the glow mocking him the way the moon usually did.

But there wasn't any moon out tonight.

He watched as the messaging application loaded before sending a ping to nxg7ft, waiting for a response. He received a ping in return after a few moments and sent the most recent decryption key before typing his message.

_kgaXV: How's the heat?_

**nxg7ft: Came yesterday again. You okay? Don't usually come callin' more than once a month.**

_kgaXV: I think I need to bust out again._

There was a long pause on the other end before he received a response.

**nxg7ft: You know you ain't Jesus. Can't cross water with your feet.**

_kgaXV: They're watching him. I gotta cut ties._

**nxg7ft: You told him yet?**

_kgaXV: He wouldn't want to know._

**nxg7ft: That's a damn lie and you know it.**

Grimmjow contemplated his friends words with a scowl, unhappy at their ringing truth. It wasn't that Ichigo didn't want to know what he was running from. It was that he didn't want to tell him. He sighed and changed subject, asking how Nelliel was before signing off. As usual, Nnoitra said she was fine, but he didn't think that was true. After what...after everything happened she had never been the same.

He hadn't protected her.

He grabbed his guitar and went to the balcony, playing some riff he couldn't place that Nel used to love before she didn't love anything again. As the evening turned to morning, he found himself wondering if Ichigo would like it.

*****

Finally, at around 7am, Ichigo booted up the computer and pulled up the program to access the mirrored drive. The visual of the desktop that appeared was basic, a handful of folders and icons in columns on the right. After a moment of searching, he found a file containing the user ID's and passwords for all of the databases he had access to. Leaving the document open, he pulled up the criminal registry and was about to start a search when he considered the possibility of being unable to erase the query.

He had promised he wouldn't give his name away.

Instead, he navigated out of the screen and went to another directory. This one was more of a long shot, but also a safer bet. It was the registry of children and adolescents in the care of the state. Any child entered into a group home, state funded therapy or counseling, foster family, or adoption throughout all of Japan was to be catalogued in the system with all of their case files and pertinent medical records. With a deep breath, he typed in “Grimmjow” and then searched.

Ichigo knew full well that because of the sheer volume of information the program had to go through, these searches could take hours, or even days to complete. So he was shocked when only a half hour later, the computer made a quiet ping noise and a file appeared on the screen. He sat back down at his desk before scanning the details.

The file was created in May of 1998. Opening the first incident, Ichigo stared in awe. Inside the report was a photo of a young boy, with bright blue hair and eyes. He had a deep purple welt on his cheekbone, a large gash across his forehead, and a split lip, along with various bruising on his shoulders and arms. But another photo showing his chest is what made it hard for him to breathe. From the very top of his sternum where his collarbones rested curving down to his left hip was a cut that had been sewed shut, probably only days before. He would have been six years old at the time, almost seven.

Fighting the nausea in his stomach, he read the report.

The boy, who an elderly neighbor reported was named Grimmjow, had been living with his mother and stepfather until three years prior when his mother was shot in a drive by. Since that time he had been left to the stepfather, Nomura Ryujiro. They lived in one of the worst parts of Osaka, known for gang violence and drug activity. Nomura had a history of mental illness, and had apparently been abusing his step son since his mother's death. No one had thought to check on the child until he was found walking down the street with the chest wound in the picture.

After the incident, Nomura was deemed unfit to care for Grimmjow and he was bounced around through several group homes, each move recorded by a new log. Before long there were reports in between each move too, noting some sort of altercation on Grimmjow's part that caused the transition. One of the files said that Grimmjow had dislocated a boys arm before fracturing his jaw for some unknown reason. He was eleven at the time.

This pattern continued until March, 2007 when he was placed in a foster home with several other children. The social services worker that visited the home stated that he had apparently become friendly with a couple of the other kids there, and seemed to be acclimating well.

The next report wasn't until December of 2008.

Ichigo opened it only to find links to several other files and a note saying the rest of the children in that home would be moved for replacement immediately. He pulled up the link at the top, which took him to a news article.

_Osaka couple murdered by foster child, now missing._

He tried to breathe.

_Yesterday, the bodies of 44 year old Kuno Sasuke and his wife, Nanao, were found in their home in northern Osaka. They had been brutally murdered by one of the foster children currently residing in their home, who authorities say is now on the run. The 17 year old boy has a history of violent tendencies, although the Kuno's caseworker stated he had been getting along well in the home. Police are withholding the boy's name for his protection until a formal press release later tonight._

He really tried to breathe, he did.

_“What if your destiny was murderer?”_

With a shaking hand he clicked the next link, which lead to the police report attached to Grimmjow's file. As Ichigo read, he felt himself grow colder and colder like he was being dipped into a frozen ocean.

_Male victim found in the basement. Death appeared to be caused by blunt force trauma as well as several stab wounds to the torso and face. Murder weapon thought to be a pipe found two meters to the right of the body. No knife recovered._

It wasn't possible.

_Female victim found in bed, single gunshot wound to the head. No gun recovered from the scene. Body temperature as recorded by coroner suggests she was killed 2-4 hours before male victim while he was out._

He wouldn't have done that.

_Statements given by other foster children say that suspect was quiet and spoke to only two other residents. Nnoitra Gilga and Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck were questioned, but gave no information regarding the suspect's whereabouts or any possible motive._

He _couldn't_ have done it.

_Case will be handled by Det. Aizen Sosuke until further notice. Any information on case should be forwarded to his precinct._

Below those words were a phone number and address for the police headquarters in Osaka. Ichigo scrawled the number out with a trembling hand before turning to his computer and finding an anonymous calling program that could change the IP address of his VOIP line every ten seconds.

He had a call to place.

*****

Grabbing his bag, Aizen walked away from his desk and toward the front of the station. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, taking off the glasses he wore when they got tired of reading file after file. He reached the doors next to the front desk and was about to walk out when one of the dispatchers at the desk called his name.

“What is it?”

“There's a call for you. Someone named Hoshimura has a question about a case from 2008. Should I take a message?”

There was only one case from 2008 that anyone could wonder about. He felt his heart beat faster.

“Transfer the call to my desk, and order a trace on it immediately,” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran back to the cubicles. Dropping his bag, he waited until a tech was sitting next to him with his laptop open and gave him a thumbs up as he attempted to trace the line. He picked up the receiver.

“This is Detective Aizen.”

“Hello, Aizen-san. My name is Hoshimura. I've heard that you were the lead investigator on the Kuno case in 2008. I had a couple questions about it.”

“Well, Hoshimura-san, I'll try to answer what I can but bear in mind I can't divulge any sensitive information.” He looked at the tech, brow furrowed as he typed furiously on his keyboard.

“I understand. To start, can you tell me if there was any suspected motive for the murders? They were committed by a foster child, so were their any signs of him being abused or neglected that may have caused the crime?”

“I can't be very specific, but no. We had no indication of any particular motive. We only have the suspect's record of past violence.”

“But did you inquire as to a motive? Did you talk to any friends or classmates he may have had?”

Glancing at the tech again who was now very openly sneering at his screen, Aizen frowned himself.

“As a matter of fact, we did question two other people he was said to have become close with. They were less than forthcoming with us. Although I have no proof, I'm inclined to believe they were holding back, and to this day I think they know something about what happened. On that note, may I ask why you have such a specific interest in this case?” The line was silent for a few moments before the man responded.

“All I can say is that I also have a feeling that there is some information missing in this case, and I plan on finding it. Thank you for your help, detective.”

With that, the line went dead. He turned to the tech as he slammed a fist on the desk, cursing loudly.

“Goddammit that guy is good! He used something to change the IP address of his line before I could trace it. Even if a trace had went through, he changed servers so many times it wouldn't have been accurate. Sorry, sir.”

Aizen turned back to the phone in his hand, beeping steadily. So there was finally something new in the Kuno case. Someone new. He turned back to his computer, still off-duty, and started to pull up all of the old files and photos from that rainy night in 2008 where he was put on the first and only case he wouldn't close.

Until now.

*****

“I'm not going to do this anymore.”

The man he knew only as schobz simply smirked at him, sitting in the middle of the yellow shipping container turned meeting place. He directed his gaze back to the financial journal in his lap, adjusting his glasses as he turned the page to next one he wasn't really reading.

“And what makes you think that's an option, Koga-san?”

Grimmjow crossed his arms, blinking over the brown colored contacts he wore.

“I'm not on any sort of contract with you. The risk of the assignments you give me outweighs the reward. Thus-”

“Thus, he says,” he chuckled as he flipped another page. Removing his silver frames, he looked at Grimmjow with the confidence of a god.

“Look at you, speaking like you aren't a simple street rat that lives off of the turmoil of others. You are nothing, Koga. Nothing without my jobs, nothing without the illegitimate work you take on. How, pray tell, would you survive without them?”

Jaw set tightly, Grimmjow didn't deign a response. Instead, he turned and walked towards the doors. He reached for the handle, about to exit, when schobz spoke again.

“It appears that you're forgetting you don't have just your survival to worry about.”

He turned around to see the smug look on the man's face as he stood from the chair. A sinking feeling bloomed in his stomach like a lily made of ice, forcing him to hide a chill.

“That orange haired man - Ichigo, if I remember correctly - can he survive without our partnership?”

“He is none of your business,” Grimmjow bit out between clenched teeth, unable to quiet his rage. The middle aged man simply shrugged in return, walking towards him and opening the door, glancing to the side as he passed.

“Anything you do is my business. I hope your eyes can watch him every moment of every day. If not, well,” he smiled viciously, “I'm afraid something dreadful might happen.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. If any of you are still remotely interested, I've finally been able to add the next chapter of this. If you're out there, I would love to hear from you in the comments below.
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long.
> 
> Best,  
> kurokun

The two hour train ride to Osaka was uneventful, but his stomach twisted and turned the entire way. Now, as he navigated the unfamiliar streets, his anxiety was only heightened as the light in the sky started to fade. After a few more blocks he stopped, staring up at the worn building that was his destination. 

Nnoitra Gilga, twenty three years old, was last logged into the police database eleven months ago on a drug charge. He was arrested in his home after police went there to serve a warrant. The building that stood before Ichigo was that last known address. Walking up to the brownstone he opened the door, noting the broken lock on the outside that lead to a hallway with paint that was at least as old as he was. Turning to the staircase to his left, he jogged up a flight to the second floor, looking for unit 2E. It was the last door on the left. 

_ Breathe. _

He lifted a slightly shaking hand and knocked quickly, stepping back as he waited. There was some shuffling inside and the sound of a drawer being slid open before footsteps approached the door and it was yanked open no more than three inches, the chain lock secured at the top.

What struck Ichigo most immediately was how incredibly tall the man was, even from the slim view he had of him. He was so tall, in fact, that his forehead was above the door and his eye just visible under the wood frame. What occurred to him next was that he had one hand resting on what he presumed was the door knob, and the other one wrapped behind his back based on the curve of his shoulder. Finally, meeting his gaze, Ichigo realized that he was incredibly angry. 

“Fuck ya want,” he hissed at him, malice slathered on the words like jam on toast. Ichigo did his best to keep his voice steady as he replied. 

“Are you Nnoitra Gilga?”

“Who the hell wants ta know?”

“My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. We have a...mutual friend.”

The man's visible eye narrowed, looking for all intents and purposes like he might kill him. But then a flash of recognition flicked across his features, and he spoke again more softly.

“Whaddya say yer name is?”

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he repeated, slightly confused.

“Use one word to describe our friend.”

“Blue,” Ichigo replied without hesitation, the color being the single greatest representation of Grimmjow in his mind. The man's eye widened then disappeared as he closed the door, and a few moments later he could hear the sound of the chain lock sliding undone and he reappeared, much less menacing than before. Ichigo took in the man's full height, seven feet at the very least, as well as his very slim build. He also noticed that his left eye was covered by a patch, the one that he saw through the door the only one that was actually visible. He nodded towards the inner rooms of the flat.

“Hurry up an’ get in here.”

Ichigo shuffled inside quickly under the man's arm, which held the door above his head. He watched as Nnoitra shut the door behind him then walked silently into a sparse living room, sitting in a wooden chair. He gestured to the only other seat, an old armchair, and Ichigo sat down across from him quietly, watching as he steepled his long, slender fingers under his chin.

“The one protector, huh,” he mumbled, almost like he was speaking to himself. “So that's what he meant.”

“Uh, I'm sorry?”

“When Blue talks about ya, he calls ya “the one protector”. Betcha that's the kanji fer yer name. Unless yer parents really did name ya after fruit.”

“He's told you about me,” Ichigo asked quietly, eyes widening in disbelief. The other scoffed before crossing his arms over his chest.

“O’course he has, Blue tells me everything. So why are ya here? Better yet, how'd ya find me? How do ya even know who I am?”

“It's…a long story,” Ichigo started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“I got time.”

“Well, to make things simple, I'm good with computers. I may have less-than-ethically accessed a police database to find you and your last known address.”

“By “less-than-ethically”,” the man repeated while air quoting, “ya mean illegally, am I right?”

“If we're being technical, yes. It was illegal.”

“So then what else did ya find out in them records,” Nnoitra asked, eye narrowed again. Ichigo swallowed and steeled himself, remembering that this was the very reason he was here.

“I found out,” he started, “that you and Gri...you and Blue know each other from when you were kids. You two were placed in a foster home together. And then something happened. Blue was reported dead, and you were questioned but didn't know anything. But I think you might know something after all.” The other man sat quietly, making no move to respond. After several awkward seconds he stood, head held high.

“I ain't got anythin' to say ‘bout that.”

Ichigo felt warmth spread through his limbs at the obviousness of the lie, but nevertheless stayed calm and spoke evenly.

“Then I suppose I'll have to ask the other person who was questioned. I think her name was Nelliel. You wouldn't have any idea where I could find her would-”

He was amazed at how fast the taller man moved, and the minimal effort it took for him to tip back the chair. Ichigo knew the hand that was now on his throat wasn't pressing hard enough to actually asphyxiate him, but it was a very effective warning. Nnoitra snarled at him, eyes clouded with rage.

“Ya ain't gonna look nowhere for her. Yer gonna go back to Karakura and never fuckin' step foot in Osaka again or I'll kill ya myself.”

Ichigo scratched at the hand, but it only gripped tighter. He did his best to speak, but only a whisper came out of his crushed throat.

“I just...want to...why he killed…”

Black spots started to emerge around his peripheral as he verged on unconsciousness, until the hand released him like a white hot stone. He coughed for a moment before rolling to the side and out of the overturned chair to sit on the floor. The taller man tsked before retreating into another room, then returning with a glass of water that Ichigo sipped at. Finally he sat, putting his head in his hands.

“It ain't me that's s’posed to tell ya what happened. Why ain't you ask Blue?”

“He won't talk to me,” the orangette rasped out, turning his eyes to the floor. “The last time I saw him was on my roof almost three weeks ago. He's disappeared and hasn't been back since.”

“Damn ‘im,” Nnoitra grumbled, “as ya may have guessed he ain't a man of many words.”

“I gathered. But he did tell me that he was a murderer. Thing is, I don't believe him.”

Nnoitra was silent again for a time, his face dark with pain. He stared at the wall while he told the story.

“Me, Blue, and Nellie all lived in that house together. First few months wasn't nothing. Me and him got hit sometimes but it wasn't new and it didn't bother us after all that time. We all were close and me and Blue made a pact like the dumb kids we were. We said we'd protect Nellie. She was the youngest, and ain't had much bad happened on account of she'd just lost her parents not too long ago and hadn't been in the group homes like us. We didn't want her to see shit we did.

“So we tried to be with her all the time. We ain't good for much besides being dogs, so we figured we could guard something and it wouldn't be so bad. But one day, Nellie got real quiet. That shiny light I saw in her eyes in the sun and her dimples she got when me and Blue made her laugh, they all just quit. And we didn't know why, she wouldn't talk to us.”

Ichigo saw him breathing heavier, his panic growing as he spoke.

“Until right around Christmas. One night Blue was gonna surprise Nellie with this book she'd been wantin' as a present, and he walked into her room in the middle of the night. The guy, Kuno, he was...on top of her, and…”

“Oh my god,” he breathed. Nnoitra simply shook his head quickly, gripping his hair between his fingers.

“Blue lost it. He had gotten big the past year, and he pulled ‘im offa her then took him to the basement and tied him up. Guys old lady knew the whole time, so he killed her quick, then took his time with him. He was a monster. I told him to stay when I got home, but he wouldn't. He's been runnin’ ever since.”

Ichigo tried to wrap his brain around the information, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He was embarrassed at first, until he heard Nnoitra speak again with a thick voice, eye hidden behind his hand.

“She ain't never been the same since, you know. She works the streets now. I told her I'd take care of her, she could live with me, but she won't do it. Even though…” he trailed off at just a whisper. Ichigo turned to him, looking at the horror in his face, the desperation. He was a man would do anything for the girl he grew up with.

He was a man in love.

“She's not twenty two yet, is she,” Ichigo asked with wide eyes. The other man looked up at him with shock, before shaking his head once.

“No, she don't know yet. But I do. Known over a year, but I still just haveta sit back and watch her kill herself. She turns twenty two in six weeks. I'm gonna ask her to stay here for the dream.”

“It will all work out in the end. I'm sure it will.”

He looked back into Ichigo's eyes with surprise, before turning away and scoffing.

“He would be matched to a guy like you,” he said with another chuckle, before giving him a more serious expression. “So whatcha gonna do,  now that ya know?”

“Now,” Ichigo said as he stood, determination sitting heavily into his bones, “I find him again.”

Nnoitra looked at him quietly before standing as well. He grabbed a notepad off of a table and jotted down a number before handing it to him.

“Blue tends to get himself into a lotta shit. If anything happens, call.”

“I will,” Ichigo said with a smile before moving to the door and heading down the stairs to the street. He started the walk to the train station, ignoring the yells and loud crack emanating from the alleys around him.

He wasn't afraid of the dark anymore.

*****

Skidding around another corner, Grimmjow felt his chest heave as he sprinted away from his pursuers. They were especially persistent tonight, and he was running on empty. He darted quickly into a basement window he knew was broken open that he had used before, not even breathing as two sets of footsteps whizzed by.

_ Morons. _

It was nearly one in the morning by the time he finished losing his tail. He was exhausted, having to run around the city for hours on top of not having slept much recently. It was hard to sleep when he couldn't see Ichigo.

Crawling out of the abandoned basement, he stopped and gave one last listen to the street, trying to hear any signs that he was still being followed.  _ Schobz _ had made good on his promise to haunt him the last few weeks, that was certain. He always had two shadows, sometimes three or four, and it took most of his physical and mental energy to keep them from finding his den. He had been very tempted to not leave his house that night after only getting two hours of sleep, but he hadn't eaten in nearly three days and it was starting to hurt. It had taken him three hours to lose the tail after they spotted him in the convenience store but finally, as he listened in the alley, he knew they were gone. With that he very quietly made his way through the mess of alleys until he came to the back entrance of his building, slipping in and taking the stairs to his flat. 

It only occurred to him as he turned the key in the knob to his front door that the back door hadn't been locked.

He stepped into his apartment, nerves on end, listening for any sign of movement and trying desperately to remember whether he had left it unlocked when he went out. He kept his back to the wall and was almost to his room where he kept a handgun when he heard the sound of moving air and felt a sharp pain on his temple. The last thing he remembered was wondering if it would do any good to pray before subsequently laughing at himself. 

As if God had ever helped him before.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to all of you, my friends. Please don't forget to leave a review if you're new to my fic or haven't left one yet. They spur me on.
> 
> Much love,  
> kurokun

“You want to run that by me again?”

“I'm going to uchiki on Thursday to find Koga.”

Renji sat with a confused look, staring at his friend as he unpacked his computer bag from his trip to Osaka. He stood suddenly, making Ichigo look at him over his shoulder.

“What is it, drama queen?”

“You've officially lost your damn mind,” he said with a shake of his head, red hair swishing slightly behind him. The orangette simply rolled his eyes and set his bag down, turning to his friend.

“You really are being dramatic. It's not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal,” Renji repeated, “have you seen the news surrounding that place? There's at least one reported murder each week. And that's  _ reported, _ mind you.”

“It's not like I'm going to just roam around the streets, I'm going to the same building I did last time,” Ichigo threw back.

“Oh right, the one where you got jumped. I remember now. I'm sure it'll be fine.” Ichigo held his tongue, recalling himself the fight he had in the alley. He would have been hurt pretty bad if Grimmjow hadn't appeared when he did. But he steeled himself anyway; this time he would be quicker. He knew where he was going now. 

He pulled out of his thoughts and looked to his friend, standing against the opposite wall with a deep scowl on his face. It was rare to see Renji get upset about something; he was so laidback and easygoing that even the worst of Ichigo's past ideas had seemed like fun to him. So seeing him so obviously plagued with worry was painful. He walked over and placed his hands on the redhead's shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“I promise you, I'll be okay,” he said softly. Renji turned around to face him, nose pinched up as his eyes watered slightly.

“You can't promise that, Ichi. Something really fucked up could happen, and I don't know what I would do.”

“Hey,” he replied at a whisper, “nothing is going to happen to me. But I'll tell you what, I'll give you something so you don't have to worry.” He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out the note with Nnoitra's number on it. He had already entered it into his phone, so he held it out to Renji's trembling hand.

“This number belongs to a friend of Koga. If you don't hear from me by Friday, call him and tell him that Orange and Blue are in trouble. He'll know what to do.”

Renji accepted the paper before wrapping his arms around his friend, trying and failing to hide his almost-tears. 

“You better not make me use it or I'll whoop your ass into the next century.” 

“I'll even let you win, Ren,” he said with a smile. 

“As if, I could beat you in a fight ever since we were little.”

“Maybe for a year after you had that growth spurt that made you look like a baby giraffe!”

“Fuck you, I was the hottest baby giraffe in our grade!”

The two continued to bicker just like they always had until Sunday became Monday, time starting to tick away.

_ Three days. _

 

* * *

 

“Holy fuck Nellie, what happened?”

She stood in his doorway, numb to the cold that wrapped around her like dead fingers. She had only the time to grab her jacket before running from the hotel room, so she had walked barefoot to his home in only the oversized sweatshirt. She knew he was talking to her but it didn't register in her mind, her feet simply moving in the direction of his living room. Once there, she sat dumbly in the armchair, listening to Nnoitra rummage around in a cabinet behind her before he returned to the room. He kneeled in front of her, so tall that he still could look her in the eye, and started to clean the blood dotting her mouth with a warm cloth. 

It was silent between them as he cleaned her up, closing the cut on her temple with steri-strips while trying to avoid prodding the bruises on her cheek and jaw. When he was done, he sat on the sofa, eyes trained on her.

“Nellie, what happened tonight? Who did it? I'll fuck ‘em up so bad he won't even know his name after-”

“I don't want to talk about it,” she whispered evenly, looking at him with dead eyes. He pursed his lips, obviously intent to continue, before sighing in defeat.

“Then whatcha wanna talk about Nellie?”

“How have things been?”

“Normal,” he said tiredly, “just like always. Except…”

“Except,” she echoed, the light in her eyes blinking in suddenly. 

“Well, I had a visitor yesterday. Remember how I told ya Blue found his destined one?”

“Yes,” she said, moving closer to the edge of the seat.

“He came here asking questions. He wanted to know about his past, and he said he was gonna go find him cause that big dolt has been avoiding him.”

“Oh my,” she breathed, eyes wide and shining. “What was he like?”

“He was serious, and kinda quiet. He seemed strong. Wasn't afraid of me at all. It's hard ta explain it, but he seems just like the kinda person he should be. For Blue, I mean.”

She smiled, a real smile that Nnoitra didn't see often, before messing with her hands like she did when she was thinking. After a moment she stood, heading towards the door.

“Hey,” he called after her, “where do ya think yer goin’?”

“I'm fine now. Thank you for taking care of me again,” she said softly. He stepped in front of her quickly, blocking the door.

“You ain't leaving tonight.”

Her eyes flashed with a bitten back fear that made his throat close up as she stepped back. He reached out, wrapping his arms around her gently even as she recoiled from someone else's hands in her mind.

“I can't let you go out there. Just stay awhile,” he said quietly into her hair. She looked up to his eyes slowly, tears brimming them as she shook.

“Why? Why are you always so nice to me? Why do you care about me when I'm just a whore?”

“You've never been that ta me. I…” He trailed off, unable to utter the words.

_ I love you. _

“I don't deserve the way you care about me.”

_ But I do care about you, so much. _

“Not even my destined one would want me, wherever he is.”

_ I'm standing right here! _

It was silent for a moment, and Nnoitra realized his eyes were closed. He opened them and saw that she was staring at him with confusion.

_ Oh shit. _

“What?”

_ Oh holy fuckin’ shit. _

“Nnoi, what did you say?”

_ I fuckin’ said it out loud. I am so goddamned stupid. Shit shit shitshitshitshitshit- _

“Uh,” he said, quickly pulling away, “I just meant I'm here for ya. I don't want ya to get hurt. That's all.”

She watched him for a minute, searching his face with scrutiny, before her own face fell slightly and she turned away.

“I'm sorry, I misunderstood.”

“What, uh...what did ya think I meant?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said with a wave of her hand as she tried to walk back to the armchair. But Nnoitra's hand stopped her, falling gently around her arm and turning her to face him. She looked away, a slight blush on her cheeks and she avoided his eyes.

“C’mon, what did ya think?”

“Just…” she said quietly, “who did you see in your  _ yumemiru unmei no hito, _ Nnoi?” 

He felt his throat start to close over as someone in his stomach juggled softballs and practiced judo on his nerves. He had wanted to wait until Nel had her dream too, had never wanted to feel like he was pressuring her. He was about to answer when something clicked in his mind and he looked down to her, brow furrowing.

“How do you know?”

“What?”

“You said ‘he’. Wherever ‘he’ is. How do you know it's a him?”

Nelliel's eyes widened and she took a step back from him, rubbing her upper arm. She looked at him timidly before standing straight and feigning confidence even though he noticed how tight she gripped her hands to keep them from trembling.

“Who did you see in your dream?”

“Who do ya think?”

“I think that whoever you saw, you must not have cared for them too much because you've never told them.”

His eyes widened as he realized that somehow, Nel knew that he had dreamed of her when he turned twenty two. And she thought that he hadn't told her because he didn't love her. His brain raced at a million miles an hour, trying to imagine how she knew and why she didn't tell him and a thousand other things, until he couldn't think anymore. All he could do was act. He sighed.

_ Fuck it. _

He reached out, placing a hand on her cheek tentatively, and when she didn't pull back he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted slightly metallic and the skin of her cheek still smelled like antiseptic, but underneath he could sense the slightly sweet savor of her breath, and the smell of her skin that he had known since childhood. When he pulled away, he looked her in her eyes.

“It was you. It's always been you, Nellie. I just didn't want to force you into anything until you'd seen it yerself, I didn't wanna scare-”

He was cut off when she pulled him forward, kissing him again with a passion he thought had died a long time ago. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest, letting him hold her up some.

“I knew it was yours,” she whispered.

“What was mine?”

“The heartbeat,” she replied, pressing her ear over his sternum. “I remember hearing it one night when I was sleeping. I woke up that morning and I realized it was your birthday, and I just knew.” 

He felt noose on his esophagus tighten again and he held her tightly, resting his cheek on her hair.

“So you gonna stay?”

“Do you want me to?”

“‘Course I do.”

“I have one condition then.”

He looked at her, confused as he watched her grin.

“I need to borrow some pants, please.”

* * *

 

 

Renji stood in the front room of his partners lavish home, staring out the large bay window at the garden. It was late Thursday, and he knew that Ichigo was well on his way to uchiki by now. His nerves were destroying him, a hole almost forming in his bottom lip where his teeth abused it. The house was silent around his busy mind, making the fear even louder. He was close to combusting when a pair of hands settled on his waist and the bright scent of cherry blossoms wafted around him. It used to make him jump when Byakuya would sneak up on him that way, but he had grown so used to his quiet, gentle steps that he could sense him before he came close. Renji leaned back into his chest, sighing as he felt slender fingers cross around his midsection.

“There is something bothering you,” he said lowly, deep voice caressing his shoulder. He shrugged, turning around and wrapping his arms around his barely taller lover. He was held in return, but he could sense the tension in the air from the unanswered inquiry. He sighed.

“I'm just worried about Ichi, that's all.”

“Kurosaki-san? What is wrong with him?”

“Just him getting into shit per usual, but this time I think he may get hurt.”

“I've known Kurosaki for many years through Rukia, and he has always seemed very capable,” Byakuya said, giving the best attempt at comfort he could. Renji smiled, kissing him once before leading him to the sofa where they sat together.

“I just can't imagine something happening to him,” he said with another sigh. Byakuya ran a hand through his hair, making his eyes slide close as he tried not to purr.

“If it would ail you so, I would rescue him from whatever danger myself.” Renji felt wings flutter in his chest, a sensation that still hasn't left in the months they had been together, and tucked himself further under the others arm. But his mind still wandered through the dark.

He would give him until tomorrow morning.

 

* * *

Ichigo was surprised how easily he had found the whitewashed building again, his footsteps guided by a memory clearer than an August sky. He strode up the front steps, taking himself up the stairs to the chipped door that he remembered leaving from weeks ago. 

He knocked.

And waited.

After a few moments he knocked again with a firmer hand, brow furrowed slightly. The harsher motion was enough to make the door swing open, Ichigo peering into the dark maw. His stomach started to flip as he pushed the door open further.

“Hello,” he called quietly from the entryway, getting no response. He ran a clumsy hand along the wall to his right, searching for a light switch in the blackness. When he flipped it on, a single bulb in the middle of the flat sputtered barely to life and allowed him to survey the room.

What he found left him freezing.

It was chaos controlled by four cement walls. Papers were strewn along the floor, clothing dumped around it like lifeless skins, and there was broken pieces of porcelain scattered near the kitchen. But the most horrifying part of the display was a single chair in the center of the room, tied firmly to a support beam. The floor around it was covered in blood, some of which was smeared by shoes that had walked its perimeter. Ichigo stepped closer, his ears ringing and heart thumping wildly in his chest, and he saw that under the chair was a piece of paper that looked more deliberate than the rest. He reached out with a fiercely shaking hand and took it, unfolding the blood-soaked edges. He read it without a sound even though his conscious was screeching. 

_ Boo. _

He dropped the paper and scrambled for his phone, finding the newly created contact and dialing the Osaka number.

“Fuck is this,” a familiar voice answered.

“Nnoitra-”

He never finished his sentence, the pain from the back of his head overwhelming him, planting spots across his vision as he fell to the floor. 

Then everything was gone.


End file.
